Battlefield Terra
by Asuka Kureru
Summary: John is one of eight mecha pilots heroically protecting Earth from an alien invasion. Pretty easy on the moral choices. See evil monster from space, kill evil monster from space. Only then he actually meets one of them face to face. JohnKarkat.
1. Chapter 1

**BATTELFIELD TERRA  
**

**Summary**: John is one of eight mech pilots heroically protecting Earth from an alien invasion. Pretty easy on the moral choices. See evil monster from space, kill evil monster from space.

Only then he actually meets one of them face to face.

**Contains**: Big Mecha, body horror, talk of rape, war, prisoners of war, people being badasses, culture clashes, psychic mindmelds, John/Karkat.

**Does not contain**: SBURB/SGRUB, character bashing, actual rape, graphic sex.

Based upon a kink meme prompt:_** Super Robot Stuck**_

"_Neon Genesis Evangelion does weird stuff to your brain and this won't leave my head._  
_ Homestuck as a Super robot show._

_ The kids pilot giant robots to fight the invading Alien Empire of Alternia, (and maybe the robots combine?)_  
_ The Trolls are the enemy (but are not really bad guys and have tragic reasons for fighting because that's how it goes in these shows). And they fight using giant robots based off their lusii._"

* * *

**Chapter 1**

He'd fought the red one before. Well, technically they were all black as space, star-blotting monster-shaped holes; only in between armored, superhard chitin segments sometimes there would be a flash of color. Tendons maybe, who knew. Whatever. It made it easier on John, identifying them like that. If he had to check out the shape of their armors and their weapon arms and then match it to whatever random-ass legend Rose had chosen to stick on it, seriously who cared about those, they made him so sleepy...

He'd fought the red one before. It wasn't the best fighter, but it was cautious and smart, and it could hit both with the outer curve of its pincers like a club, and with the inside, serrated, metal-tearing blade on the inner curve. Hence why he'd never managed to smash it to death in one hit and why Roxy kept stealing the highest kill record from him; he wasn't fond of hard vacuum and explosive decompression, and after the last time it blocked his weapon in mid-swipe and slipped under his guard to shred up his cockpit he was in no hurry to rush it again. Vacuum was pretty unnerving when all you had left between it and you was one piddly helmet with fifteen minutes of oxygen.

"Warhammer to Base, Cancer broke through, in pursuit!"

It had never, ever rushed _him_ before.

Never thrown itself straight at his raised hammers, like it didn't care it'd be crushed through in one single blow, so long as its corpse could tackle the shit out of John's mech. He'd been frozen stupid a half-second too long and it had slipped underneath his hammer head, even though it left a gouge down its back. The impact threw them ass over head and whirling in a ball as John's head rattled inside his helmet, shock-foam hardening along his spine and his security harness leaving friction burns right through his flight suit.

And then here he was, letting his hammer go and tearing at its shoulder-blade plates to peel it off him, and it planted its clawed mantis legs in his mech's crotch and kicked off, like John was a mere stepping stone to...

... to, fuck, _fuck_.

"Base to Warhammer, was Cancer alone?"

John checked his instruments at a glance and throttled more speed out of his engines. "As far as I could see, but -"

"I'm sending out Excalibur to fill your position. I can't spare you any backup for the hunt - it's imperative that you catch it!"

Too far before him, the giant, insectoid space monster kept building up speed, plasma blooming fire engine red at its back like butterfly wings.

Earth kept growing in their sight. John ignored it, seeing only the trailing afterimages on his heat camera like the taillights of a truck. He was gaining, he was, but too slow, they were already screaming through the thermosphere. He could see nothing but those serrated pincers, those clawed second-arms, the monster-feet. It was tall like a ten-stories building and it shed nuclear radiation like Bec shed white hairs on black couches. No one knew how the species managed oxygen issues or if they ever needed it but they were organic, John knew, he'd brought back enough fragments of alien encrusted in his hammers for copious amounts of analysis, and organic beings _had to eat_.

"Base, communication breakdown in two minutes. I won't catch up before the stratosphere."

Warhammer wasn't optimized for atmosphere operations. It could manage, though. He would manage.

"Acknowledged." A pause. "See you at dinner, John."

He let her hear a smile in his voice and lied to her. "Sure, Rose."

He clicked off his radio.

They fell into the Earth's gravity well, caught and speeding up, tearing the air into howling fire. John's mech rattled all around him, viewscreens sparking with static and sudden flames, instruments beeping to turn him deaf; he clicked them off, one by one, security warnings, low on fuel, G-forces too high, slow down, slow down.

Cancer wasn't slowing down either, even though he could see the chitinous armor curl and smoke, dulled at the edges - weak to fire, fat lot of good it did all of them fighting up in space. John had a burst of inappropriate laughter thinking about General Harley's face if he recommended they invite the aliens down home for a barbecue.

Maybe the old man would even laugh and say why not.

The Pacific sprawled under them, the insectoid shape like a black hole going right through gorgeous green-blue waters from that angle. John bypassed a last security lock and put the last of his fuel into a burst of speed, bet it all into catching up before it touched down.

He bet the monster didn't expect that.

He rammed it straight in the spine, right between its plasma wings. He couldn't tell if the wings went out on impact, or if he was just losing consciousness. Probably both.

His cockpit was filled black as alien armor, light-devouring, an endless hole. They fell.

* * *

Beep. Beep. Beep.

"Oh, shaddup."

Beep. Beep. Beep.

"Dave, gotaheadache, alarm, turnidoff."

Beep. Beep. Beep.

"Dirk? Pretty please? Cherry on top? Your Majesty?"

Beep. Beep. Beep. Why was he sleeping in a ... uh. Pillow fort? This felt like a padded chair, but sideways. And if he moved -

"Ow! Ow, ow, crap, darn-danged - _fucktarded _excuse for a - ow!"

A faint red glow blinked on and off through layers and layers of shock-absorbing foam. The harness was snug across his chest. When he shuffled his weight a bit it dug into one of his shoulders; he could feel that arm as nothing but muted tingles, like someone had anesthetized him and then dropped him in fire ants. (And now they were sitting back going hehehe to themselves waiting for feeling to come back. Asshole.)

His face was covered in dry blood. Urgh. He worked some out from between his teeth and spat it out with a grimace, fumbling for the harness release, which predictably dumped him on his right-side instrument board, which was now more or less underneath. The foam helped some, but most bubbles were already popped flat and there was very little bounce left in them.

Okay. Yeah. Fairly good bet he'd crashed.

Also fairly good bet he wasn't dead. Awesome. Unexpected, but awesome. Concussion... nah. Well, more probably he'd had one, for a while. Whee for nanite healing. Good nanites, best friends. He'd have to thank Doc Lalonde. Not that he wasn't still dizzy and exhausted, on account of they had to take energy from _somewhere_, but that was better than bleeding in your brain by just about three miles.

He pushed his hand through the foam, sliced it open and parted the edges like they were a curtain made of pillows, which strained his arm but whatever. The screens were almost all shorted out; the instruments, as expected, answered what amounted to a 'ahaha shyeah right' when he tried to move his mech. He patted the front console, a little sad. "Sorry, Hammer-buddy. If it helps you went out in a blaze of awesome."

-unless.

Unless, oh, fuck, fuckity fuck fuck, he hadn't killed it, usually he hit them from the front, who knew how deep he'd crushed it from the back, _what if it wasn't dead_! He yanked open the weapon compartment overhead - the big blaster gun almost brained him when it fell free - and squirmed his way to the emergency release.

The thought came to him a bit late that it was exceedingly likely he'd landed into the ocean and was now thirty meters deep and sinking fast. Water was already rushing in to slap him in the face by then.

He slapped the side of his helmet, spluttering when saltwater got in before the glass slid closed, enclosing his face. Aw heck. It was going to take a little bit to be siphoned out. In the meantime he could still breathe, if awkwardly. He swam through the hatch, paddled up. To his relief Warhammer rested barely three meters deep on its side on a slope, at the end of a gouge in the sea floor. The water was clear, all raised dirt and sand sunk to rest once again, fish unafraid to come right up to one huge metal hand to investigate; he must have been unconscious a while.

John rose to the surface and tapped his communicator as he bobbed in lazy, sun-speckled waves, admiring some sea, and more sea, and a little bit of some more sea. Static.

"Wow. Maybe I ought to have stayed in the cockpit," he muttered to himself, and tried to pull the gun's strap so it wouldn't make swimming even more awkward than it already was _holy wow an island_!

He kicked up in excitement, bobbed higher on the waves; it wasn't even that far, maybe five minutes at a leisurely breast-stroke, which considering he'd bruised his shoulders to the bone with the harness didn't sound like a bad idea. Looked like he'd clipped some palm trees or whatever those were on his way down, heh, oops, and...

... looked like something else had crushed through a much bigger number of trees over there.

Okay. Never mind his shoulders. Time to speed up.

The beach was gorgeous, a wide stretch of pink sand, and all he could think was how exposed he was out there. He'd been trained some on grounds tactics, but the bare required minimum; he'd been destined for space even before he was an enthusiastic blastocyst in a test tub, after all. He bent low, holding his gun with both hands. Man he wished Jade were here. She'd taken to General Harley's hobbies like a duck to water.

The plasma gun would make a pretty nice hole in chitin. The trick was finding the right spot to do more than piss it off.

And there it was, the Cancer alien, even more gigantic like this, with him frail and human and without any shell of his own before it. It lay sprawled on its back, one of its grasping hands torn off at the socket, the gaping hole oozing reddish phlegm. The other limbs John could see from there were clearly broken and in a lot of places, though nothing like bone showed through.

It didn't move, not even to breathe. That wasn't proof of jack shit. To survive in hard vacuum they had to have amazingly efficient oxygen processing, or whatever they used instead of oxygen. Maybe it was just napping.

He picked up a rock and flung it, scurried off to another hiding place. No reaction.

Another rock, still no reaction. Okay.

The head was out of reach, propped up on rocks and hidden behind a crapload of crushed trees. Chest shot it was, then. John gritted his teeth and stalked his way to its side. The shell in shadows was cold to the touch, a hint of the void of space still clinging to it, though in the sun it reminded him more of turtle shell.

... It was so, so big. Made it hard to breathe, being in its shadow.

It needed to die. He slung his gun over his back to free his hands and started to climb, fast, not letting himself hesitate. Either it would wake up or it wouldn't; he needed to be in position either way, a shot straight through the chest where his hammers could finish it in one blow, where obviously there were important things to destroy. It'd probably eat people otherwise, make a huge monstrous nest with a queen and killing drones for all John knew, and soon Earth would be overrun, colonized. They couldn't eradicate the monsters on-planet without sterilizing whole continents, making all life impossible there, and he couldn't allow that. He wouldn't.

Even as he strode up its chest, swinging the gun back in his hands, he vaguely wondered why the usually cautious Cancer had even charged him at all. But it didn't matter.

He reached where its sternum should probably be, and...

... there was a crack in the armor, raw flesh oozing behind. Good; he moved closer, peered in. The plasma gun would lose less power if it didn't have to burn through the...

... the...

... oh god.

Lights inside, dim firefly glows through pooled phlegm, a liquid thicker than blood, see-through faint pink but for the clouds of red obscuring the outline of a, no, he was going crazy, oh god he couldn't breathe, _this was a person_, was this where all their kidnapped fighter pilots and explorers had gone, were they - those were _tentacles_ worming their way over the person's legs in slow organic pulses, he was going to be sick.

He yanked his helmet off, turned away, threw up. The tentacle went _into _that guy's leg, like a giant leech, a parasite worm, what the fuck, what the fuck.

The guy was bleeding to death in there. Bleeding out in the dark, with the little firefly glows going out one by one. John wiped his mouth on the back of his glove and crawled his way to the edge of the hole. It was so deep, shit, shit, he wasn't going to be able to reach with just one arm. Maybe with a foot, if he held on to the edge, but what if those worms - urgh.

Anyway he wasn't going to risk falling headfirst into it and breathing that disgusting pink snot in. He turned around on his knees to pick his helmet back up.

Of course that was when the chitin under his knees cracked in two like a hinged door.

It was like drowning in amniotic fluid. Body-warm on his skin, slick, clinging. He fought to resurface and only sank faster.

A fleshy rope coiled around his ankle. He was screaming before he'd thought better of it.

No, no, no, oh god he needed to be out, he needed to get out of here, this was a trap, he was going to drown he was choking it hurt everywhere he couldn't move needed to move needed to escape keep fighting keep moving couldn't die here, _couldn't, couldn't fail his people, loved his people loved them needed to protect them fightescapelive_, no, no -

_Breathing. Calm down. Breathing._

... Oh. Yeah. He wasn't passing out yet. The liquid was thick in his lungs, uncomfortable, was an effort to push out and to breathe back in. He didn't feel dizzy at all.

Lights were getting brighter, more of them blooming, orange and yellow, purple sparks, like looking at instrument grids underwater, straight lines all wavy, distorted. It was...

_Familiar. Radio here radars there all is well oh no it's really not. Pain, pain, my arm's broken my arm's _gone_ it hurts, can't panic can't-_

John kicked a slow-crawling tentacle off him with a shudder of disgust, flipped around to face down. The liquid was clouded with red, the lighting so dim. His eyes didn't sting, wide open to catch every single detail of that short black hair dancing in slow eddies, the line of that so-human jaw, the flashing orange glow on that dark skin, highlighting here a cheekbone, there the curve of an ear. The face was scrunched up in pain.

_(despair) going to die on you (friendlovemyown) so sorry, so sorry, so far away, a hundred stars, failed, failed, left you alone, I promised..._

It wasn't him. Those feelings. It wasn't him.

The other boy coughed up another cloud of blood and its teeth were a row of serrated knives.

Its eyes opened gold and red and black the second the muzzle of John's gun touched its chest.

* * *

Nothing. For the longest time there was nothing. And then a trickle of bland, unsurprised resignation, bitter and mourning, _failedyou failedyou sosorry_, wafting through John's mind and then gone in wind-torn wisps.

John's hand didn't shake. That didn't stop him feeling sick, suddenly, gorge rising with the memory of what he'd felt when he was plunging down to Earth on the alien's tail, not even really thinking of all those strangers he had to protect, but of Rose that he wouldn't see at dinner (they'd both known he was lying) and Jade who would never get to tell him hunting stories again, and Dad, and the Striders, and _everyone_.

_Well? Get on with it._

He might have shot anyway, only there were tentacles rising and swaying around them like a nest of cobras, their ends tipped with needles long like his hand, and his first reflex was to escape.

His second reflex was to rescue. He couldn't help but glance down, stare at all those veiny, gut-like things pressed flush against the - the pilot's legs, its - _his _back, his _spine_.

He tried to speak and managed a strangled, muffled croak, but his burst of _horrordetermination _had the alien boy twitching, startled.

John bared his teeth, mind made, grabbed a handful of disgusting flesh ropes. _Yank it out. Hurt you?_

The alien boy flashed his alarm at him, _nononostupid paralyzemeno!_

_Then how!_ He growled, teeth bared, turned the gun on one of the walls. The tentacles lazily started to drape around the end. He thought very hard about the size of the hole it would make, the way it'd cauterize everything on its path.

Startled apprehension. Disbelief. _Yes, I'm serious, damn it._

The... the alien - the pilot - the other boy - felt around him, hand awkward, hurting. John flinched as ghost-wounds crawled in his arms, there and gone. It was like a memory of multiple breaks, some on limbs he didn't even have, and wasn't it weird the mech - oh shit it _was _a mech, it wasn't an _alien_, the alien was _here _- the mech had six limbs when the alien had just four?

Eyeing him warily, the boy pushed his hand in the tangle of tentacles, pressed something. John tucked his blaster gun under the boy's chin, just in case he was preparing a bad trick, and the alien bared his teeth at him but all that happened was the tentacles slowly drifting down and coiling onto the bottom of the... he guessed it was a cockpit, of sorts, so creepy. A few of the ones leeched onto his legs released with little plumes of blood; John watched the black bodysuit crawl over the bared skin and plug itself closed with undisguised, weirded-out interest.

One of them didn't want to release. The alien winced and set his teeth and (_piece of shit not even surprised) _yanked it free. Ow, shit, that hurt.

And if that rush of frustrated feelings wasn't a big huge _duh + fuck you _combo John didn't know what was. He frowned some more and pursed his lips, and tried not to laugh. Bad time.

_Fuck you fuck you argh!_

... Yeah, okay, note to self, laughing in placenta snot made lungs very unhappy.

The little lights were dying one by one. John braced his feet on what he guessed were command panels and leaned down to grab onto the alien's arm.

The second he pulled up, there was a burst of _painpainpain _in his head and then nothing but static.

Aw, hell. He supposed that'd make pulling out the alien boy a bit more difficult, but at least he wouldn't have to keep his gun on him all the time. He went about climbing back up to the edge to secure a climbing line and pulled the alien on his back. Oof. He was so glad things were more buoyant under there, because the guy felt like nothing but solid muscle. _Heavy_ muscle.

Oh well. John was strong. He'd been made that way. He settled the boy's limp weight on his back, grabbed the line. _Up we go!_

* * *

A hour later and he was still coughing up pink froth semi-regularly.

The alien boy hadn't awakened. John seriously hoped he hadn't damaged him, carrying him off the Cancer mech and around over bumpy ground like that, but at least the guy breathed pretty normally, if kind of slow. The froth he coughed up was a lot closer to red, though. John busied himself finding them a boulder to prop branches against, make a bit of shelter in case of tropical storm, not that he even knew if it was the season. He'd used the shoulder strap of his gun to secure the boy's arms up over his head to a convenient root, though, because he wasn't stupid and this _was _an alien from a race hell-bent on eradicating his.

(_left you alone failed you_)

... Janey and Doc Lalonde would be _all over _the alien. Jane especially, she was always going on and on about what she'd managed to extrapolate of the species' psychology and behaviors and how much she still hadn't and how it made no sense goshdarnit all to heck. They'd be in researcher heaven.

(_so sorry_)

... His skin was gray, which was the weirdest thing. Not unhealthy gray, but full-out slate. John hadn't really noticed in the dim pseudo-womb, with only orange and red lights to give a hint of color; he'd looked maybe from India or maybe part-Black, not straight out rock-colored.

John propped another branch on his lattice and busied himself threading it in, trying not to ogle too much. The flight suit was... pretty close to John's, actually, molded to a somewhat stocky but humanlike body, padded at the knees, groin, and elbows, only the material was black instead of sky blue and seemed kind of alive (so creepy!) and would close back up if cut. The alien's facial traits were subtly off in proportion, but in the end that snub nose was human enough; he knew Roxy was guaranteed to try to tweak it and coo about how cute it was.

And then the alien would probably bite her fingers off with his bear trap mouth.

John crouched beside him, tapped his cheek. "Hey, buddy?" No reaction. John pulled up an eyelid next, but he had no clue how to interpret it - the iris itself seemed to change sizes, instead of the pupil, it was freaky as hell. The violent, flashy red of it didn't help.

... With teeth like that he was probably some kind of cannibal. Yep.

Or the unholy result of a mating with a paper shredder. Pff. Heheh.

Man, he wished his friends would lock onto his emergency beacon fast. A few meters of water weren't going to kill the signal, and it'd been _hours _since he'd crashed. Maybe they were busy. Busy with that guy's asshole buddies, trying to kill them all and invade earth like B-movie dick-headed alien assholes, all the cruisers, all the battleships they'd lost out there in space to those insectile horrors. Maybe right at the same time as John was here lazing around on some tropical little atoll paradise Roxy was getting beaten into pieces, Jade hunted and harried so she couldn't gain the distance she needed to snipe, out of ammo.

(_I promised so sorry_)

The guy coughed again, chest rattling so hard John was half expecting to see a lung plop out. He shuffled closer, slid an arm under the guy's shoulders and lifted his upper body up a bit. He couldn't sit him up completely without untying him, and _that _wasn't happening. He'd seen the claws on those hands, thanks, they were pretty hard to miss.

Whether the guy's friends were busy killing John's friends, that didn't change that John had the first live captive of this war _ever _(oh man he'd just realized, the best place to smash his hammer through was where the cockpit was on those things, no wonder the science team had never realized, with the way it smashed things into mush) and he wasn't allowing him to die. The end.

It had nothing to do with how he looked about John's age (he could be centuries older!) or that he'd been all trapped in creepy vampire-vines straight through from one of Dirk's X-rated movies only _worse_. Or that he'd been injured (while trying to get down to Earth) and was in pain, it didn't, John didn't _care_.

(_despair, despair, despair_)

... Aw, crap. The froth was pretty much pure red now. "Hey, man. Alienbuddy? Insectpal? Chuminvader? Wake up and tell me it's spittle, okay, you're just foaming at the mouth smelling the buffet of deliciousness rising from my skin. Aliens wouldn't have red blood, right, you'd have... Dunno, transparent ichors or whatever? Yeah? Oh man, it's dripping down your chin now, okay this is not on. Wake up. Wake up!"

He shuffled so the alien was propped up on his leg, patted his cheek. Wiped some blood (maybe it wasn't blood? maybe?) off his chin with a thumb. Aw hell, hell. The alien kept coughing all raw and exhausted, trying to curl up only he couldn't because he was tied up, and John patting his face did jack shit to calm him down or wake him up.

The alien's head rolled a bit and a hard round bit dug into his hipbone, hard. Huh. John ruffled his hair aside, exploring. Skull, skull, sku- huh.

"Oh wow, you have, uh, are they stubby antennas? No, they're too hard. Can't be mandibles, you don't have a mouth on your skull, right, that'd be creepy. Horns then? Why'd insect people have horns? Haha, that's funny." He could hear Rose's lecture about convergent evolution and how insect-_like_ and humanoid-_shaped _didn't indicate a common origin at all, though he knew she'd never dreamed of such a close degree of likeness between their two species. The alien had five fingered-hands, for Pete's sake. "Okay, fine, horns. They're a pretty bright color, huh, not like the rest of you."

He combed locks of thick hair away from the small, round-ended horns, tipped in pale gold and rooted in rust. They were soft like wood polished to a satin finish, warm.

When John traced his finger along the outer curve of one, the coughing stopped.

He did it again, experimentally. A shudder ran through the alien's frame. He coughed again, but making an attempt to smother it that time, groaned quietly.

"Hey! Are you waking up yet?"

The alien boy's eyes cracked open.

Red on gold, and that pupil constricting in barely a second from a black dime to a dot, or more like the red in his eyes had suddenly doubled in size on both inside and outside edges, so that even the yellow sclera were partly hidden. The effect was really strange.

They stared at each other. The alien had stopped coughing - stopped breathing entirely, actually, frozen in a solid block of startled, wary fear on John's lap. John grinned down at him.

A 'discreet' tug to his pulled-up wrists confirmed that yep, he sure was tied up. John kept grinning. The alien somehow managed to seem to breathe even _less_.

"There, there." He patted him between the horns. The guy's eyelids twitched. "I'm sure you're smart enough to figure out that if I haven't killed you yet, I'm probably not gonna. You're more useful as a live prisoner, yeah?"

Though he guessed aliens might think different. No one knew what had happened to any of their prisoners. They'd never resurfaced. Kept as slaves? Dissected? Eaten? Who knew.

Wasn't a bad thing if he was a little scared of John, anyway. He didn't want to come across as a soft touch.

"Um, I don't suppose you speak English, though. ... Español? Français? I kinda suck at French though so even if you did, I, uh, yeah. Iyaan, yamete kudasai?"

The alien was still staring at him, eyes open a touch too wide and still as stiff as if he'd been carved out of that cliff there on his other side.

"Okay, I guess Dirk's boyporn anime isn't the best place to learn languages."

He noticed his index and middle fingers were still hooked in the curve of the alien's horn. He gave it a little tug, just to see what might happen.

The alien took in a startled, too-quick breath, and started trying to hack up half his respiratory system, was what happened. John pulled him a little higher against his knee, wincing. He couldn't sit him up any higher without dislocating his shoulders, though. "Whoops. Sorry."

... Okay, this was definitely blood. This wasn't goopy foam anymore, it dripped in big fat drops, made rivulets. Something had burst in there.

John stopped smiling, grabbed the alien's chin, firm and demanding attention as he frowned down at him. "Freeze."

It probably was just the tone, or the body language, but the alien froze, though his chest heaved trying to cough again. John kept holding onto his chin, his other hand pointing down at the alien's throat, nodding to it; "Here?" pointing lower; "Here?"

The alien made a clicking, grating noise that John couldn't read at all, but his face seemed merely wary, disgruntled. In pain, too, strained.

When John reached his lower chest, upper abdomen, he visibly tensed, eyes rolled down to watch John's hand with clear apprehension. He rattled out something that was certainly a chain of words. (Jane was going to explode with happiness, and then with frustration at the amount of work it was going to take to learn.) John decided it meant _yeah that's were it hurts oh god don't touch it_.

Alright.

Internal bleeding and/or punctured ... breathing apparatus.

Fuck. Double fuck. Triple fuck.

The alien's eyes closed almost all the way, exhausted and sour. He shuddered, blinked - his eyes looked wetter for a second, surely John was imagining it, he was an alien, it must be a coincidence if he looked about to cry - but he blinked it away and when he looked up at John they were dry. He side-eyed him from behind dark bangs for a couple of seconds, something John couldn't read passing on his face, and then he breathed out slow and careful and let his head roll back on John's knee.

It was so deliberate, the way it made the flight suit collar gape there, the way it exposed the whole length of that throat, vulnerable and hopeless. Understanding was a punch to the stomach.

John's alien boy was asking him to kill him.

He... couldn't even move, at first, could only stare. Red eyes closed slowly, and oh, even his tears were pinkish when they rolled off his temple and onto John's arm, pink and warm. He looked so exhausted. So ashamed.

John keyed his wristcom, caught his chin in hand, and leaned in. He had a half-second to stare at those teeth and think maybe he should have found another way to swap saliva, but he couldn't stand it even that long.

He sealed their mouths together, tasted something metallic and salty that wasn't quite like his own blood, sickeningly raw.

The alien boy went stiff as a strung bow under him and started trying to struggle, snarling in his mouth. John had to press his thumb hard in his jaw muscles to keep him from biting, and then he had to twist to the side and drape a leg over his hips to pin them down before the idiot tore himself up worse inside. He growled in turn, out of frustration and impatience, and broke their ridiculous liplock to glare him down. "I'm trying to help you! Settle the hell down already or I'm sitting on you, and you really won't like that!"

He freed the leg he had stuck under the alien, guided him down flat on the grass, caught his chin again even as the alien shook his head, no, no, no. Aw hell, he felt like some kind of molester, but it was for his own damn good, okay!

Liplock again, and he had to put some tongue into it or it would never be enough, and ow, ow, the alien had just managed to slice the inside of John's lip with a fang. John groaned in frustration and shifted on top of him, kept him pinned with his upper body and wow that managed to make it even worse somehow but he needed a free hand to grab his hair and _tug_.

He seriously hoped the alien boy didn't have a concussion, because John wasn't really helping.

By the time the wristcom beeped again the alien had stopped fighting, smothered coughs shaking a frame otherwise gone limp, eyes half-open and blank. John sat up slowly, freeing his chin, his hair. The boy turned his face away to hide against his arm. John felt like the creepiest asswipe of all.

Cautiously, he shifted his weight off the other boy's hips, sat at his side. "... Um. Hey. It's okay. I'm done. And now let's seriously hope that nanites can even be keyed to an alien and that they won't short out and clog up your arteries or some shit, because I'm sure that little bout of boytussling didn't help."

Another rattling, blood-speckled cough. Otherwise, no reaction. Well duh John, he's captured, mission gloriously failed, he thinks he's dying, and then he gets molested, it wasn't a tone of voice he probably couldn't even parse that was going to communicate that all was well.

... He was pretty sure that weirdass goop was chock full of neurotransmitters, though. Sometimes the feelings had been so clear they'd almost felt like words. John burst to his feet, snatched up the gun. "You stay here, okay? Fine, that's a pretty dumb order but seriously you're too weak to escape and there's nothing but sea all around so don't even bother, that'd be silly. Right? Right!"

He was gone at a run in the next second, leaping over boulders and racing through high grass, scaring off flocks of birds on his way. The Cancer mech was highly visible, a block of night black crisscrossed by tree trunks and vivid green leaves. John took a little while searching the grass for his fallen helmet, stuck it on his head in case the radio had gone back up - nope, still static - and climbed up its side.

And then he was up there. He took off his helmet, and went to scoop a big helping of amniotic goop with it, hoping that the mech hadn't died or whatever happened to severely damaged fleshware and it hadn't gone bad. Getting back down without dropping the thing was an adventure of its own, and he was trotting back, exhausted and thirsty and wishing he could have a sports drink or three to rebalance all the electrolytes that had gone into powering the nanites' fast multiplication. His mouth was so dry, but all his snacks and sodas and things were in his mech, which was at the bottom of the sea, crap and re-crap.

Maybe if the alien boy fell asleep he'd go diving for things to salvage. Later on.

When he trotted back up to their little hut, the alien boy was still tied up with his arms overhead, but he'd pulled up his legs somehow, feet tucked close to his butt and knees up and pressed together despite how many bad things it must do to his abdomen, and the wary glare and the snake-hiss he threw at John made it clear what he expected him to try. John groaned.

"Oh no, your maidenly virtue is safe, I swear. I'm sorry, okay? - you know what, wait just a sec and we'll just, hm, how to do that..."

He knelt at the alien's side, patted one of his arms in what he hoped was a soothing manner (got teeth snapped at him, goddamn he was going to have to hold him by the hair again) and leaned over him. The boy cringed away from him, hissing and snarling in syncopated rhythms that just _had _to be words and which John had no hope of untangling.

"Feeling better already, huh?" John said with a grin. The alien flinched like he'd threatened to eat his mother. John sighed and leaned in, smeared a nice big handful of lukewarm goop on that gray forehead, and then closed the distance to press his own against it.

Fear and helpless exhaustion were so weak that for a few heartbeats he didn't even notice them as separate from his own tiredness. Biting his lip in thought, he smeared some more goop, staring in the alien's eyes and willing him to calm down, and pretty sure none of it was getting through.

An image of a pink and sky-blue caricature with bared teeth flashed at him, smiling in smug, friendly contempt as it forced its way between his legs. John flinched back, stomach twisting.

"Oh god. No, okay? No, no, no, just no. That's just not - nrhg." He cupped his face between goop-nasty hands, pressed their foreheads back together despite the way he bared his teeth. Goddamn it if he would only stop snarling for one second so they could actually communicate...!

Tense. Wary. Waiting. What now?

John breathed out slowly, eyes closing in relief. Awesome. Now, um. _Safe. _"Yeah, you're safe, it's fine, shh. I won't hurt you. Shh, shh - why does this feel like every single time we've had to take Jaspers to the vet." _Safe, won't hurt you, won't force you._

Sheer incredulity snapped back at him, but the details were lost, fuzzy. Sighing, John applied more goop. It was already starting to dry crusty in his hair, ew.

A big dollop rolled free of his hand, trailed a line through the forest of the alien's hair, glanced off a horn. Tiny, round, adorable horn.

_Oh, fuck you, even the aliens, fuck you very much._

John exploded into giggles. "What?" _What? They _are _cute, buddy, sorry to say._

The answer he got felt like about ten minutes of fuck you packaged into a ten-second burst. "Whoa. Hehehe. You're a surly bastard, aren't'cha. There, there, shhh."

Okay, now how to explain, uhh...

The alien lost patience before he figured it out. _Wrists caught why? Pinned down why? (has to be sex what else enemy flat on his back what else happens, hurts injured can't even serve can't pilot can't can't can't (I'msorryIpromised)) mouth on mine forcing me open, forcing-_

_No! _"No, that was to help you, that - aw, damn it, stop being so incredulous at me." _Healing,_ he pushed, _head hurt, little blood things fix it, no more pain._ He really hoped that was clear. It was too bad the swim through that goop had washed the last of the crusted blood off his own temple, he could have showed off the absence of wound there. _Your chest hurts, sharing the healing._

A moment's thought, blanked away from him, and then resigned understanding. The alien boy tied down on a rack, pink blurry humans prodding and poking him, watching him bleed and making notes on little handheld things that seemed a universal constant of both interrogators and medical doctors. He needed to be kept alive for that.

John felt nauseous once again, mostly because he couldn't swear that'd never happen. Their first live, captive alien. There was no way he'd be left untouched.

_... hah. See._

John closed his eyes tight, so they'd stop stinging. For all he knew, this same desperate, scared boy had killed his compatriots. Maybe he deserved it, huh, deserved the torture, every single second of it.

_Why do you fight?_ he thought, pressing it sharp like a blade, digging deep. If there was a way to think at each other, to be linked that way, brainwaves crossing from one to the other, there was no reason why he had to wait for the answers to come, was there? _Why - tell me why!_

The alien arched under him, choked on a short scream of pain, but John wasn't letting go, was pushing his way through flashes of a strange _cargo bay and sitting in a cockpit waiting for it to flood (drowning every day) battleship corridors marching down you have your assignment, sergeant, good luck (mockery, die already you filth die die die) _

_But if I succeed_

_If I succeed she_

_Maybe she _

_(ropes of raw flesh piercing through, swallowing whole, mouth open in a permanent, silent scream, twice-too-many horns bare but eyes hooded, blinded, caught and caught and never, he won't, it's his place, filthy traitor, smothered in tentacles burrowing deep under his skin in his flesh in his bones his spine inside his chest trapping him, _digesting_ him does he still have legs left under that does he could he still is he still -)_

_GET OUT! _

John choked, tasted his own tears on his lips. Under him the alien had started struggling in earnest, teeth bared to the gums, and he could feel how much it hurt, when the wounds the nanites had barely started on reopened, how much he didn't care.

_Get out! I'll kill you, fucking little pink mutant sludge, you have no right!_

And it was raw fury spurred by pain, the stark knowledge that it was futile, his whole grand desperate attempt, it had always been futile right from the start, and then he'd gone and failed just as planned, and John was crying and he couldn't stop.

_Stop it, stop feeling sorry for me, I hate you!_

"It's okay. It's okay if you do. I don't hate you."

He wiped his eyes, stared down into furious red irises, pupils constricted so tight they were almost invisible. He leaned down again.

_I have friends to protect too. (__Dad Jane Jade Jake Dave Rose Roxy Dirk_, Bro and the General and the Doc, my people mine mine mine.) I'd do anything. Anything to stop this war.

_... won't kill me,_ the alien replied eventually, bleak with anticipation of torture, of lifelong captivity.

_No,_ John agreed, sorry-soft and steel-resolved. _There's too much we need to know._

He straightened up, wiped the goop off his captive alien's face, out of the curve of his horn. His eyes still itched with tears. He didn't say he was sorry.

He sat with his back to the rock, the gun tucked against his shoulder, left him alone. Nagging wouldn't bring anyone anything. Empathy didn't matter. They weren't friends. They were enemies. He had a mech to fix back to fighting trim and compatriots of his captive to smash to pieces with his hammers and a war to fight.

After a hour, the alien stopped coughing and fell into a fitful sleep. It was late in the evening when Dave's battle-scarred Excalibur and Rose's Echidna touched down on the beach.


	2. Chapter 2

_If you want the chat log with actual colors and formatting, it's up on Archive of Our Own, btw, should pop up on a simple title search. Ffnet all formats it in basic black bold, makes things a bit harder. Hopefully it's still easy to tell who's talking at the time. (what's with the alliterations all up in there? dude. XD) Anyway the kids don't use their canon handles, merely the first and third letter of their names, so John is JH, Jake is JK, etcetera.  
_

* * *

Warhammer was in need of so many repairs when they brought it in, John barely knew where to start. The impact with the alien biomech and then his crash-landing had warped a lot of things out of alignment, quite a few of them load-bearing. For a few days his buddy was in a lot of parts all over the repairs bay, being remade from the inside out.

Luckily they had an exceedingly awesome mechanic crew whose job it was to figure it out once the mech was back on base. There was no way he wasn't going to learn every single trick he could to take care of his buddy himself, in case it was ever necessary, though!Plus, he was pretty good at jumping off from Warhammer's propped-up head to a suspended, waiting-to-be-reattached arm to a nearby gangway to run for toolboxes or much-needed coffee. The mechanics tended to be older and creaky and have a weird distaste for swinging on a hanging chain a dozen feet over the hangar floor.

Also they couldn't lift a half-ton of scrap metal bare-handed.

Long story short he kept himself pretty busy, and learned tons of really neat, important stuff besides. And if that meant he got back to the boys' dorm exhausted every night and immediately crashed for eight hours, and was gone in the mornings before anyone could get started on their 'we hardly see you anymore, John!' prodding...

Blah. He could start socializing again once his buddy was fixed. Right now Rose had shuffled herself from tactical support to active duty to cover for the hole he'd left in her roster, and Jane had been shoved from inactive to standby, and not only did he know how much they both hated it, even if they'd never complain, it really wasn't the best use of personnel. Rose was scary in a mech, but as a tactician she was terrifying. As for Jane...

Well. Jane was Jane. She wasn't going to shirk her duty.

It hurt, thinking of her in a cockpit, though.

"Hey, kid! Higher-up for you."

John groaned and hooked his legs under a scaffolding support bar, flipping back in the void until he hung upside-down from his knees. Drove the Rear-Echelons Motherfuckers the UNE had saddled them with crazy, in between the 'casual disrespect oh my stars and garters' and the 'ridiculously risky behavior we can not afford to lose you Egbert _your life is not your oooown_', like perfect hand-eye coordination was a thing they could not wrap their brains around. Not that John never slipped or misjudged a landing and crashed, but only when he wasn't paying attention. Ten meters over a floor littered with sharp metal parts and electric cables was a stupid place to be distracted.

"I really wonder where the monkey genes came from," mused the elegant blonde woman at the door. "Then again that _was _the year Hass and I had our first drunk-off."

John broke into a smile despite himself. "Hey, Doc! I thought you were one of those UNE nags, come for another debriefing."

Because of course upon his return he'd had back-to-back debriefing upon debriefing where he had to rehash the whole sequence of events, with everyone from decorated UNE Generals to scientists of all types, xenobiology and xenopsychology and he didn't know what else... And then some more debriefings where he had to repeat everything he'd already said, only this time to _politicians_.

Not a one of them had wanted anything but a) intel and b) to berate him for everything he'd done wrong, from leaving an opening for the alien to pass him at _all_, to not putting "it" down straight away, to damaging "it" too much by taking "it" out of "its" cockpit; exposing himself to unknown pathogens, to potential mental influence (like telepathy was a thing anyone thought existed before it happened to him!), taking too many risks, not taking enough risks, and blahblahblah until it came straight out of his nose.

(Not a one of them had shown a half-smidgen of interest in how terrified of letting people down and dying on them the alien boy had been.)

"Nah, no more debriefings for you. They can just watch the tapes."

"Good, can't stand those assholes. I was this close to just straight out making up stuff. It would have been hardcore." He grinned at her upside-down and brandished a wrench. "Tell me when they're gone so I can emerge from my man-cave of repairs and grunts, okay?"

She smiled, as he'd known she would. There was something in her face, though... John twisted his neck and back to the side into a rather painful hook shape to try to see her expression better.

... Aw heck.

"I have a favor to ask of you, kid."

Aw heck no. John felt his stomach sink, and it wasn't because he was upside-down. "Betcha you only call me kid 'cause you can't even tell if I'm John or Jake."

"Don't be silly!" she retorted. "Jake has square glasses." John couldn't help cracking a smile, once again, but it died fast. The joke had been half-hearted.

He swung to grab the bar with his hands and jumped down; the scaffolding under his feet rang with the impact of his boots. He made the rest of the way down via the very normal boring way of the stairs and followed the Doc out of the hangar, worry curling tighter in his guts when she made sure the containment door was locked airtight before turning to him.

"Alright. Shoot. Uh, not literally, please."

"It's about the alien."

For an intense, burning second, John almost turned on his heel and went back to the hangar.

"Oh no. Oh Doc, please, no. I didn't want to think about that mess anymore-"

Her eyes were sympathetic, but he could tell she wasn't going to let him get out of it. "You broke it, you bought it, John. Suck it up."

God no, no, no. Facing him again. He couldn't. "Come on! What am I even needed for? I'm not a scientist and I'm not a, a, I'm a _pilot _and my job was to bring him in, and I _did_, and _the end!_"

He stood before her, hands fisted, shaking. She kept dissecting him with her eyes. "You built a bit of a rapport, didn't you?"

John exploded. "_I'm not helping to interrogate him either!_"

She bopped him over the head with her clipboard.

Ow.

...Um.

"Don't be ridiculous. You'd suck balls at it." Doctor Lalonde's gaze gentled. "That, and it would break your heart."

John bowed his head, boot tap-tapping at the concrete floor, awkward and flustered. "I just, what's the point? I can't do anything. I _shouldn't_ do anything, even if I could." Her hand patted down his messy hair where the clipboard had hit. John's voice turned into a strangled mumble. "... It sucks being a responsible adult. I want to stop."

Pat, pat. He tilted his head into her hand and wished the Doc was more of the huggy type, because he could kinda do with one right now. She was more of the type to prod you into a tiger pit and yell encouragements all the way down.

"If you refuse to get involved, I won't order you, kid, you know that."

John let out a shuddery breath, and didn't know if he was more relieved or ashamed.

"I'll just go back to poking him with sticks and hoping that stops him being more or less catatonic. Or I could give in and stop vetoing the UNE scientists, since I'm not having any luck on my own. One of them suggested electroshocks."

John choked on his own spit. "I'm going! I'm going, holy _hell_, you're _evil_."

"I sure am!" she replied brightly, erasing ten years from her face, and looking more like Roxy than ever. She threw an arm around his shoulders and gave him a sideways hug, and opened the next door. "You're a good boy, John."

"You mean a chump," John grumbled under his breath as he allowed her to herd him along.

"Same difference," she said with a chuckle, and ruffled his hair into a right mess.

Roxy and Rose were scary, but man, what they would become with all those years of experience.

* * *

The laboratories were clean but not white. Doc Lalonde had them built when the eight of them were toddlers and so there were pastels everywhere (and also terrifying, terrifying clowns because that was apparently what kids liked or something, so sayeth some expert moron who'd never met a kid in his life, and it just so happened Mr. Strider was an enabling asshole.) One of the walls was a mural of kiddie scribbles.

It was also chock full of disapproving strangers in lab coats and armed-to-the-teeth security. John plastered a bright grin on his face and strolled through on the Doc's stilettoed heels, hands in his pockets.

"So what do you want me to do anyway?"

"I have no idea! Anything that works. This is pretty much my last ditch attempt before I have to let others try their hand at it."

She guided him down a side corridor, inside a dimly-lit little room. There was a table and computers and some old guys with writing pads and things that he didn't pay attention to, because there was also a full-room one-way window into the next bedroom over.

That room was white. Windowless. There was a hospital bed.

There was his alien boy laid on his back like a corpse still wrapped in scrubs, wrists and ankles cuffed to the bedframe, staring at the ceiling.

A perfusion pumped god knew what into the crook of his elbow. Bright red blood and other body fluids were sucked out of his thigh. He had little sensor disks plastered everywhere - temples, chest, stomach, throat. Even his horns were wrapped up in some kind of wire that looked like Christmas tinsel, like they were tiny trees and someone had let over-enthusiastic three-year-olds decorate them.

"I don't suppose he's moved," Doc Lalonde asked one of the old guys, who shook his head no. John slowly stepped up to the window. "Well then, that'll be thirteen hours now."

... goddamn it.

"There's nothing wrong with him physically," the Doc explained quietly. "Repairs held, he's been shedding the nanites just fine, we hit on a goop that meets his dietary needs; he really didn't like the EEG machine but he was over it in a half-hour at most. All other bio scans might have been stressful but proceeded without pain. He just... quit."

"Why is he tied up?" John asked, voice reedy, choked-up. "I mean, the door's locked."

The closest old guy gave him a "are you stupid" glare. "It spent the first couple of days trying to claw and bite people to death, and the next four trying to claw _itself _to death. It would be gagged right now if we could stick anything in its mouth it couldn't bite through and choke on."

"I still think plastisteel-"

"No, the toxic byproducts-"

They devolved into some kind of boring fussy argument. Doc Lalonde stood back and leaned against the wall, arms crossed and a vague smile on her painted lips, all 'yep, end of working hours, professionalism ends _right here_, I don't care you're dying come back tomorrow'. She was making her _soon, martini, soon_ face.

John nodded to himself, said, "Alright, then," and keyed his override code into the heavy, armored communicating door.

Immediately, a big great _ohmygodwhatareyoudoing_ yelling fuss kicked up behind him. John didn't give much of a crap, because the alien boy hadn't even twitched, not even to check who was coming in. He closed the door behind him and keyed it locked, to keep interruptions to a minimum, and made his way to the bed.

"Um. Hey."

No reaction, not even a blink. John wondered, stupidly, if he still did blink sometimes, or if his eyes had gotten so dry he physically couldn't anymore.

John knew what he wanted to do. He didn't know how much of it was fueled by the guilt of being the one who had delivered the alien to this. The Dave in his head told him that was stupid, he'd done his duty and how did he know the alien hadn't asked for this and anyway it was war and sucky stuff happened during wars. The Rose in his head was pondering compromises, reasonable suggestions, ways to be humane without opening himself up, without allowing that guilt to grip him back, to compel him.

The Jade in his heart told him so fucking what if it was. Guilt or whatever, who cared _why_.

John was barely aware of the smile stretching his lips when he started walking around the bed and pulling out needles and sticky disk things, plop plop plop, dropping them on the floor and then carelessly stepping all over them.

The way he axe-kicked the steel lock off that wrist manacle was all Dirk.

_Badass_. (His heel kind of hurt now but he resolutely ignored it.)

"Rise and shine, buddy!" He jabbed the alien in the side. Aha! There had been a tiny, reflexive flinch. Not too far gone yet. "Up, up, up! You've lazed about long enough."

"_What are you doing it will kill you we cannot spare you-_"

"Nanana-nana-naaaa, la-di-da-dadahh, it's a beautiful day, let's play hooky today~" He started unwrapping his horns, careful not to let any metal edges catch on their curves. One of them was a little chipped along the outer side, where a scalpel had no doubt scraped some material off for testing. He wondered if he'd even felt it. Most horned or tusked animals on Earth wouldn't have, but who knew.

He gave the skull between the horns a hair-ruffling scritch, like he would Bec or Mutie. Surely there was a tipping point of annoyance after which the other boy would drag himself awake, if only so he could kick John in the face. Sooty eyelids fluttered, eyes twitching a bare millimeter in John's direction.

Score. John softened his approach as he went back around the bed to his ankles, quieted his voice a bit as he kept up a stream of friendly nonsense.

"_At least use the key for the shackles, do you think they grow on trees? I have it right here. Don't be silly._"

Shyeah right, John was going to come out of the room right now. Like they didn't have a crapton of security waiting. He resolutely ignored the urge to make grimaces into the mirror, too, foot rising high before scything down, heel first. Second axe kick of the day!

"-Ow! Crap." Wrong angle meant his foot had glanced off ineffectually and it hurt where he'd smacked his ankle-bone. Glowering, he tried it again. Goddamn but this would bruise nice.

The alien was watching him when he finished, faintly incredulous at the edges, like he was half-asleep and still wondering if this was some kind of stupid dream he could hopefully forget before he had to take it seriously. John grinned back, and tried not to bounce as he made his way back to the head of the bed.

"Hi!"

He sat on his haunches; his chin was about level with the mattress. He didn't want to sit on the bed and be all loomy and accidentally threatening, give the poor guy flashbacks of when he thought John was all about the gray-and-bleeding-dudes molestation. He even hammed it up propping his hand on the edge of the bed and his chin on the back of his hand and looking up all soulful and cute like a hopeful puppy, the way he hadn't tried since he turned eight.

Bafflement flashed briefly in red eyes, and then the alien broke eye contact and turned his face away, a couple inches. John whined and bounced the mattress under his hand. Bounce, bounce.

Half-hearted raspy hiss. Probably _go away_. Oh man. John had been shooed away by _masters _before. This didn't even rate.

Still, the longer he was here and the longer they had to prepare a plan to get him out and the poor guy tied back down. Time to speed things up. "Oh well. Warned you, bro."

He pushed himself up, grabbed his upper arm, and pulled him off the bed.

He hadn't quite counted on how limp and unresponsive the guy was going to be - pretty much a dense, really heavy lump of jelly, and then it was either fall on his ass or drop him on the floor - so for the second time John ended up sitting with the alien in his lap. He started laughing. "Ow. We have to quit meeting like this."

Gray eyelids blinked slowly. His eyes looked a little more focused when John stared down into them. Not a lot, though; he'd been better put together back when he was gushing blood from the mouth, half-unconscious and begging for a mercy kill. John tried to smother his worry; apparently he'd already gotten him to respond more in ten minutes than the assholes out there in thirteen hours. Nothing to fret about!

John wrapped his arm around the alien's back, guided a gray arm dotted with needle tracks around his shoulders, and struggled back to his feet. He tried to see if the alien could stand... Okay, wobbly, head hanging, and he wouldn't keep his balance on his own, but when John took a step his feet stumbled to follow. Good enough.

"Onwards! Adventure awaits."

When he keyed the door open, the old fussy guys were gone. Doc Lalonde was still there, a mysterious smile on her painted lips. She mimed lifting a glass in salute. John bobbed his head in an aborted bow.

When he reached the end of the little side corridor where it met the big main one, he was faced with two rows of armored soldiers with weapons raised, one on each branch of the T. Urgh. He made a face, and was about to grump, or find something glib to say and bullshit his way through, only then the gray arm around his neck tightened minutely, startling him. Claws prickled through his t-shirt.

The alien's chin was lifted off his chest, just a couple inches, just enough to see those rows of booted feet. John tilted his head to peer at his face. Apprehension flickered there, heavy brows attempting to furrow.

"Hey, are you awake?"

A couple of blasters powered up with a quiet whine. John rolled his eyes at the closest military guy. "Seriously, dude, if you're that twitchy maybe you shouldn't be on security detail, huh? It's fine, he can't even stand up on his own."

"Its jaws are maybe fifteen centimeters away from your _throat_, you little twerp." The guy in charge - John could never remember ranks - shouldered his way through, all dark brooding eyes and radiating pissiness. "It could chomp through your carotid in a flash. Not that you wouldn't deserve it."

John rolled his eyes and bullshitted through his teeth. "Um. Yeah. And then, oh, what was it again... Oh, right! _Nanites_. Okay I'd gush blood like crazy for the first two seconds, and I'd be seriously woozy afterwards from blood loss, but that's about it. You know what'd really damage me here, dickface? If you shot him, because at this distance it'd char a nice big hole right through me too."

The man gave a curt shrug. "S'why God gave us tasers."

... Ngkkkh. _Why was he trying to out-threaten Jack Noir_. No, wait, now that he'd started he absolutely couldn't stop, it was all going to come down to sheer balls. John worked on not looking like his heartbeat had sped up, because who on Earth or anywhere else in the whole universe enjoyed getting tasered? That crap _hurt_.

"Uh huh." He started walking - toward the side Jack stood with, because turning his back on him and appearing to run away seemed even worse somehow. "Have fun ruining the accords and getting all your people barred from the island entirely. I'm sure your leaders will be all fine and dandy with that, maybe they'll give you a medal!"

The alien's claws were caught deep in cotton; they hadn't broken skin, but they dug at him just short of that, clench-release-clench-ohgodohgodwhatareyoudoing, like a nervous kitten kneading away to settle his nerves. John could feel his breathing kick up.

The poor guy who broke first and took a half-step back when John and his alien buddy stalked within arm's reach was going to get reamed to within an inch of his life. Jack would probably keelhaul him somehow, even if he had to build himself a boat first. But once someone had given way, even just a tiny bit, it was easy to keep striding forward (_like a boss, John, because that's what striding means._) He just went ahead and pretended he was some unholy merge of Dirk and Dave, unimpressed gaze and set chin and devastating confidence in his mad ninja skills and all.

The alien pressed against his side maybe a bit closer than strictly keep-from-falling accidental. John patted his side. "There, there. S'all good."

"Uh huh. Stop right the fuck there. Last warning."

John swallowed and kept walking, bracing for the pain that was sure to follow, because Noir just didn't make empty threats. Oh man, his dad was going to be so ticked off.

The click of a primed gun. Nghgh.

The hollow boom and sudden shadow of a mech touching down right before the window was the best sound John'd ever heard. Windows, actually. It was that big.

"_Hi, John! Need a lift?_"

Jade's gun was so much bigger than Noir's. Grinning to strain his cheeks, John shouldered a soldier aside, hauled the alien to the window, shoved it open. (It was such a relief to see a gray hand lifted awkwardly to help push it open, even if a beat too late and too slowly to matter.) Noir swore and shoved aside the same guy John had bumped into, but by then John was already seated on the windowsill and letting himself tip out and fall, right onto Remington's open palm.

The fall wasn't that far, but he landed flat on his back on hard metal and then had dense alien matter flop on his ribs and stomach, so while he was glad he'd cushioned the alien's fall he was still wheezing when Jade pulled up her mech's hand. He went "Whoa!" and wrapped his arms tight around the alien to keep him steady. He'd been riding around on his friends' mechs since forever but it helped with the splat-risk if you weren't too woozy to keep your balance, and all the guy was going to accomplish screek-ing his claws against metal in an awkward bid to grab a hold was break them.

"_Jeez, just calm down, okay,_" Jade was telling the soldiers at the windows, though John couldn't see because she'd curled her mech's other hand over them as a shield. "_It's not like he's being taken off the island._"

The trip was pretty short; Remington only had to turn around and take three steps through the courtyard before it could lower them onto a roof terrace. Still enough time for the alien to squeeze his eyes closed and burrow his face in John's neck. John's wheezing hoots of triumph softened into chuckles, and he patted the back of his head; the thought of those teeth barely brushed the back of his mind and then was gone. "Aheh, sorry if you're scared of heights, buddy. ... Pff, space pilot, afraid of falling - um. Yeah. Shh, shh, you're safe."

Jade apparently got bored of waiting for them to get up and off Rem's hand, and tipped them onto the tiles. They tumbled together, John landing across the alien's stomach, making him huff out a breath, and of course John couldn't stop himself cracking up again.

"I'll get you for that, Harley!" he yelled, shaking his fist, though he couldn't stop grinning. Remington's other hand flipped him a two meter-long bird. (Neatest bit of operating system programming Dirk had ever done, for serious.)

"_Not if I see you first, buttface!_" she called back.

When he looked back the alien was sprawled on his back and staring sightlessly at the sky, which would have worried John more if his black lips weren't also quietly shaping a litany of what John was convinced were curses upon his lineage and everything he had ever touched.

He pushed himself up on hands and knees and peered down at the alien, quite deliberately blocking his view of the sky with his face. "Hey there! Awake yet? I don't suppose you want to sit up and do things on your own. Like carry around your own personal black hole in there." He poked his stomach through the hospital gown, ready to tease a little more.

... Hospital gowns were really flimsy. Okay, this one wasn't the kind that opened in the back so you could moon people all night long, more like a bathrobe really, but it still opened all the way in front and ended at mid-thigh, and tumbling down had ruffled it up some. Flashing was not happening yet, but it would only take a little breeze. Eep.

"Haha um. It's kind of cold out here, huh? Let's get inside." John got up, held out a hand. The alien boy's eyes slowly tracked down from his face down his arm; before he'd gotten to the end his eyes had closed again.

He looked so exhausted. Hopeless. It still bugged the _shit _out of John, made him itchy inside, crazy with the need to just _fix _this somehow except he had no clue where to even start.

Also he'd like to see what the heck the guy looked like when he wasn't flat on his back and despairing himself to death! Growling, he leaned down. "Okay, fine, princess. I'm carrying you now, don't think I won't." No reaction. "... Okay, you asked for this."

He slipped his arms under the alien's back and his knees, straightened up. Doc Lalonde had said his injuries were fixed, right? There was nothing physically wrong with him. John bounced him to settle his weight, a bit too abrupt to be comfortable.

... oh god the gown. Oh god. He was torn between blowing on the little flippy corner to settle it back down over bare thighs before it finished fluttering down on the wrong side, or just staring straight ahead and ignoring it like ignoring things was an Olympic sport and he was running for the gold. (Not that some part of him wasn't _morbidly curious _to see what alien junk looked like, but he looked mostly human everywhere else, there was no reason it'd be that different. Oh hey maybe he had a claw on his _auuuuugh_.)

A claw-tipped hand flopped limply across the guy's lap. The alien was watching him through his lashes, face turned away like he was nervous. John winced. "Oookay, gonna have the 'not about to molest you' talk again, I think."

Though John wasn't sure if the nerves were even sex-related at all, or if he'd spent the last days having just about every doctor on base run their cold, impersonal eyes and grabby fingers all up every inch of him. It'd be violating either way.

There were stairs, so John didn't try to let him stand when he'd just have to pick him back up. He went straight to the staircase and tried to be prompt and professional as he made his way down and through the scanner-locked door.

The rec room was empty, which was a bit strange at this hour. Usually Rose at least would be sitting at the table - oh right, she was probably up in space, filling in for him. So then that meant Jake and Jane would be asleep, and Jade had probably been on her way up to switch with Dirk, and he had no idea where Dave would be.

John stood like an idiot watching the empty room, until the alien shifted, glancing away from the room and to his face, à la _what the hell dude_. John gave a nervous laugh and went to dump him on one of the couches in the TV corner "There you are! Hope you're comfortable."

The alien was making eye contact now. Progress, right? Yeah!

"Okay. Uh."

Did absolutely nothing else, though. Just kind of... Stared.

"... What do I _do _with you now."

He was kind of muscled, and not that much smaller than John in height, but right now he looked small. Defenseless, even despite the claws and fangs. It was the scrubs, and how out of place he was in this familiar room, how he sat on a four-people couch in a way that felt like he was a little kid on an adult chair for the first time in his life. John borderline expected his legs to dangle over the floor.

The room was just too big for him, was what John felt, full of bookcases and posters and potted plants and robot parts and knickknacks. It'd probably help to block some of that out.

Alas the folding screen had suffered a mysterious and purely accidental accident the last time he and Jake roughhoused. John would have to improvise.

His glasses went beep as he was dragging a couple of high-backed chairs to the couch. He tapped the frame to accept the chat invite as he started setting up the chairs along the arm of the couch.

**RS: My delightful gene donor informs me that we have acquired a new roommate...?**

**JH: rose! hey!  
JH: we sure did.  
JH: he's flopped on the couch now and kinda staring at me. looks kind of like a stray puppy.  
JH: hehehe.  
JH: he followed me home, mom, can i keep him? :B**

**RS: Oh dear lord.  
RS: John. I suppose it is utterly pointless to remind you that this poor alien you are feeling the urge to coddle is in fact Cancer, no doubt an accomplished soldier and the pilot responsible for your brief acquaintance with hard vacuum a short three months ago.**

John winced a bit. He'd had nightmares about that one for a while. He sneaked the alien a quick, uncomfortable look.

The boy was still sitting where John had put him like an abandoned doll, half like he was too tired to move and half like even if he hadn't been he was too afraid of moving in a way John didn't want him to and so it was better not to bother. Apprehensive and exhausted, the most he did was move his eyes to track John across the room. Damn it, John didn't remember him so passive, he'd been all full of fire and sheer intensity and what the _fuck_ had they done to him? It made him kind of pissed off.

Another beep interrupted him before he could poke him in the ribs. He dumped an armful of pillows and afghans on the alien's lap and turned back to the convo.

**RS: So since I don't enjoy bashing my head upon walls of sheer diamond, I am going straight to the next item. No, I cannot read your mind. I am basing myself upon nothing but experience, such as the way you behaved when Jade brought back Bec... or when my dear sister and I brought back Jasper and Mutie...**

**JH: is this going somewhere? so many words rose, i'm dying, you're killing me, i hope you're proud. **

**RS: You cannot play with the alien. **

**JH: what.**

**RS: I do believe his environment has been sufficiently altered at present. Perhaps you ought to give him a little space to breathe? Or as Dave would put it... _Get off his grill_, John.  
RS: To continue this painful metaphor, his grill has been overcrowded for the last ten days. He has been poked, prodded, and had rocks thrown through the bars. People have been rattling his grill. His grill is approaching complete saturation and may well be about to disintegrate utterly.**

**DV: in shorter words that dave would actually put it in  
DV: because im dave as it turns out  
DV: no you cant cuddle the alien  
DV: the alien is a hands-free zone  
DV: pickpockets and prestidigitators banned 4 lyfe  
DV: i know how you yearn to make out with your new space boyfriend but no just no  
DV: ps we have to sit on that couch no defiling the couch**

**JH: bit too late for that one! whoops.**

**DV: ...**

**RS: ...**

**JH: i didn't mean defiling the couch.**

**RS: Is that supposed to be better or worse?**

He snickered, watching red and lavender unwind on his lenses. Okay, now this book - no, _that _book would be better, way heftier. And that encyclopedia, oh hey, and Rose's leather-bound edition of War and Peace, and Jane's Harry Potter doorstoppers. Soon enough his arms were full; he went back to the couch.

**DV: ladies and gentlemen john egbert  
DV: space molester  
DV: boldly groping where no human has groped before  
DV: there there poor xenomorph show us on the tentacledoll where his sweaty hand fondled you  
DV: no youre not supposed to eat the tentacledoll its not food no thats my hand not food either**

**RS: Dear brother, if you make a "dick eating" reference I will be forced to have Roxy ban you from the server.**

**DV: man its not fair im her brother too why are you her favorite im gonna tell on you to dirk**

**RS: Alas and woe. It just so happens I am also Dirk's favorite.**

**DV: but hed understand the sanctity of a guys junk he could never betray that sacred brotherhood of manliness and penises**

**JH: there, there, bro. my dick is safe. his teeth aren't that sharp!**

**RS: ...  
RS: John, now would be a great time to tell us something to the effect of "Haha, just kidding! Of course I didn't get the alien to perform fellatio upon my person on the couch."**

**JH: "Haha, just kidding! Of course I didn't get the alien to perform fellatio upon my person on the couch."**

**RS: ... You just copypasted that.**

**JH: hehehe :B  
JH: just kidding. his teeth ARE that sharp.**

**RS: John, may I remind you. I love you. I also know where you sleep.**

**DV: it was the nanites wasnt it  
DV: you smooched him cyborg good job egbert we knew we could entrust the safety of earth to you and your masterful tongue  
DV: now he too can short out small unshielded electronics just by walking by his civilization is doomed mwahaha**

**RS: No, once the initial injuries were repaired he wouldn't have kept a breeding population of nanites without an external control to reprogram them; they must have been deactivated and shed by now.**

**DV: dont interrupt my goatee stroking with your science and earth logic rose  
DV: it is all alien logic all the time this is an all-alien logic show**

**JH: hehe. **

Alright! No getting distracted by convos. John had everything. He rubbed his hands together and started in on the actual building of the pillow fort.

He was careful not to touch the alien when he had to lean in to take the biggest afghan from the piled-up shit he'd dropped on the seat beside him. The alien made a low clicking noise deep in the back of his throat, followed by a confused chirrup of sorts. John grinned at him and threw the afghan over his head like a net, and started tucking it over the backs of the chairs and pushing it in the crevices at the back of the couch. He used Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows to pin down the other end on the chair.

The alien was looking more and more openly baffled, which was better than blank and no-one-home by about a hundred miles, though he still wasn't moving at all, not even to bat away the cloth hanging in his face. John resolved to start whistling next, surely that'd be annoying enough?

But anyway. Main architecture, done. Now it was mostly frills.

**JH: but seriously guys you're distracting me from gray-dude-watching. not that he does a lot, it's about as challenging as keeping watch on a potted plant, but still. anyone got any actual advice?  
JH: i can't let him just go back to flop-ville, rose!**

**DV: he just *has* to pet him**

**JH: i just HAVE to  
JH: damn it.**

**DV: get his hands all up in those smooth flowing locks **

**JH: oh shut your trap, you.**

**DV: survey the topography of those glutes in minute detail**

**JH: okay, this is making me a bit uncomfortable.**

**DV: its for science john  
DV: science**

**RS: I do not advise that you allow him to fall back into complete catatonia, but neither does it seem advisable once he is responding, if minutely, that you assault his senses and his mind with a barrage of irritants which will surely prompt him to retreat again.**

Um. Surely what he was doing didn't constitute a _barrage_. John guiltily stopped whistling.

Alright! Main tent complete. It swallowed a good half of the couch, plus - if he cheated and pulled the cloth at an angle toward the floor via judicious application of War and Peace - some space for the alien's legs. Oh but wait, he didn't want the alien to feel locked in either. Uhh. Bit of string, bit of string... aha! Electric cable, there, in the pile of robot parts. Okay now if he put this chair _here_, he could make an awning. Awesome.

**RS: I suggest putting on soft music, or a TV program with as low a level of violence as you can tolerate, anything that wouldn't overstimulate him. Some animal documentary might do. And then just sit nearby, but do not stare at him.**

**DV: man you have never watched an animal documentary ever  
DV: those penguins are hardcore**

**RS: Alas, new pets must get used to their surroundings and feel safe before you can play with them, or naught but stress and escape attempts will occur. When he is ready, he will hopefully engage you.**

**DV: in other words get your hands off the grey dude he does not need cuddles**

**JH: you are kidding, you are totally kidding, not even dirk after a sad pony macro needs as many cuddles.  
JH: but yeah okay he already thought i was a rapist once, i probably should quit while i'm ahead.**

**RS: ...**

**DV: ...  
DV: look mom the herd of dots is migrating back already short winter huh  
DV: yeah son global warming you know  
DV: makes for shitty seasons**

**JK: o o o (Those are the elusive mammoth dots!)**

**DR: Dude.**

**JH: why is everyone on the line? i was texting Rose!**

**JK: Well naturally we wanted to know how things proceeded with your wild captive after that daring rescue! Also make sure he had not yet eaten off your face.**

**DR: Or merely sucked it. But I see you answered that one already. **

**JH: look at the time! i'm gonna miss the disney channel! they have bambi, that's non violent enough right?**

**DV: thus introducing the trauma of bambis mom to yet another civilization  
DV: you continue to exceed expectations john kirkbert  
DV: breaking their wills making them ripe for the conquering etc etc**

**RS: Perhaps a different Disney movie would be more appropriate, John. I believe we have The Little Mermaid or Beauty and the Beast...  
RS: On second thought, those might send the wrong message as well.**

**JH: this is way too hard. i'll just put on a nice quiet peaceful football match, how's that sound?**

**DR: Got some MLP eps.**

**JH: yeah see the issue here is the last time i tried to open one of your files i accidentally found a nice and uplifting story about a schoolboy and his teacher. :-\**

**DR: What can I say. It had a pretty nice plot.**

**JH: yeah, if one of his buttocks was named plot!  
JH: not that i thought anyone's buttocks were nice in there oh god.  
JH: this zinger did not go as planned.  
JH: going offline forever now guys. **

**JK: Go get 'im tiger.  
JK: *double pistols and a wink***

**JH: _FOREVER_.**

Upon closing the chat window he found another one waiting underneath, just a note, the sender back offline already.

**I love you, John, and I know you have to do this. But he managed to savage a lot of people before they found restraints that would hold him. I won't make you watch the footage, needless to say it was gruesome. Just because he has been hurt does not mean he cannot hurt you in turn. Be careful, please.**

The smile on John's face faltered. It wasn't unexpected, though - and it wasn't even as if he thought Jane was the only one of the eight to have the opinion that perhaps he should have kept out of it. He could tell Rose had doubts, and Dave was straight up unhappy. But Dave also already knew John had made up his mind and there was nothing left to do but snark about it. Jade and Jake were willing to wait and see, curiosity piqued... As for Dirk, who ever knew what he thought.

He turned only to find that the alien's toes, which used to stick out from the trailing end of his fort's walls, had disappeared; when he bent at the waist to peer inside he found him huddled in the corner of the couch, arms wrapped around his knees and half-buried in pillows. Moving on his own! _Score_.

The alien sent him an _utterly exhausted _look - or actually more like a 'you're exhausting' one - and spat out a sentence that started out slow and halting like a jamming machinegun and ended in a glorious explosion of growls and very irritated _kh_ sounds.

John almost wanted to applaud. Instead he grinned bright and approving. "I'm gonna pretend it's a 'thanks John, that's exactly what I wanted!'"

He let his smile soften a little before he straightened up.

God knew if _he'd _been pinned like a butterfly and exposed to any and all passersby in some pristine, depersonalizing hell, he could think of nothing he would want more than a cozy little hideout made of soft cloth and cushions.

He took a cautious seat on the other end of the couch. Clever gaps (if he dare say) allowed the alien boy to catch glimpses out in quite a few directions, while still being hidden himself, and cutting out a lot of the background mess of details. John couldn't see him. He made sure to stretch his feet out so they'd be visible, so the alien boy could track him, and then he turned on the TV to the Mythbusters channel, sound turned down low, settling in for a long wait.

A sigh - the alien boy muttered something under his breath that sounded like he had a throat full of gravel and snakes - and then the couch cushions moved a bit, like he was looking for a more comfortable position, and then there was stillness again.

John waited another ten minutes before peering through one of the gaps. His guest was draped spine-bendingly over the arm of the couch, fast asleep.

* * *

_more interactive karkat next chapter! :pokes him with a stick:_


	3. Chapter 3

It was home; it was _safe_. It took John a shamefully long five seconds to understand what the protesting whirr of electronics by the door meant, and by then the panel had been forced aside and men in tactical assault gear poured into the crack.

John rolled up on a knee from his seat on the carpet, book in hand, mouth open for an outraged yell. Harry Potter saved his life, by taking the dart that had been meant for his chest right in the binding. "_What the heck?_"

Noir shrugged at him, even as he directed men to surround the couch and its silly little fort with economical flicks of his fingers. "Don't bitch, that was just a sleeping drug."

John spluttered. "Just a - oh, _fuck_ you!"

"Be easier on everyone if you just admitted you're out of your fucking depth and let the alien go back into proper custody, but you won't do that without a goddamn yelling match. Tedious, let's bypass that. Sanders."

John flung the heavy volume in his hand. It hit the man taking aim at him in the head, hard enough to fling him off his feet. John didn't even watch to make sure he was down, because at this velocity, yes, he was, and he better be grateful his protective helmet meant he would only be a _little _concussed.

"I think maybe you've forgotten where you are," John said in the sudden silence, in what he felt was a remarkably calm and pleasant tone. "I don't think I'm out of my depth. I think maybe you are."

They stared at each other. Noir's eyes had gone to slits, no doubt calculating angles, ways to get at the boy behind him. The couch backed up against a wall, so there was no way to approach from behind (not without a mech anyway, and while John had learned to think of walls as rather flimsy barriers while in the pilot's seat he doubted Noir would dare to go quite that far.)

There were still his sides, exposed; he wished one of his friends were here, he wished Jake or Jane would wake up and come investigate. He wished Jade would come back down from orbit with Remington, or Roxy in Molotov - hell, even Roxy _without _Molotov. Noir was the main danger but John hated leaving his flanks open, because he knew as soon as he locked himself into a battle with the asshole they'd dart in to snatch his alien boy from the couch, no matter how short he managed to make it.

"What's that shitty tent thing anyway, don't tell me either of you thought it'd stop infrared."

"It's a _pillow fort_," John replied with open, insulting pity. "Your childhood must have sucked a whole championship's worth of balls."

John had been piloting since he turned twelve. He'd been in real fights at fourteen, and - it seemed - risked his life weekly ever since, he'd been bred for speed and strength, he'd been taught by _the_ Strider. The only reason he wasn't knifed across the eyes when Noir lunged was that the man had deliberately missed, so he could startle John into taking a step back, off-balance, and bring up the taser in his other hand.

John wasn't done screaming his throat raw when a chair swung in over his head and clocked Noir in the side of the head.

John fell to his knees, chest heaving desperately, muscles twitching all over as he tried and failed to fight the reflexive urge to curl in on himself. He heard a low, rusty-edged hiss, and a gray leg pressed itself against his flank as he was toppling over, gave him something to brace on.

Oh.

His alien boy was awake.

John could feel the alien's knee tremble even through his own shakes, could see how tense he was, how his hands couldn't choose between fisted or hook-clawed. He stood his ground, though, snapped something irritable-sounding that John figured was for him, reached down to grab the taser probes and tear them free, caught a hold of John's upper arm - John presumed to pull him up.

One of the men snarled "Don't _touch _him!" and lifted his gun.

John tackled the alien in the back of the knees, rolled with him on the carpet and behind the coffee table, flimsy protection as it was. It wasn't a tranq gun he held, not even a _bullet _gun, it was a fucking blaster!

"What the heck, _what is wrong with you!_" he yelled, and tried to crawl over the alien, shield him with his body - there was no way on earth they'd shoot through John to get at him, was there? Absolutely no way, oh god, and here he was, still aching all over and really needing to throw up and _goddamn _it.

The alien thrashed under him to get free, barking out insults about John's mother and masturbatory habits, no doubt. John gritted his teeth when claws pierced his skin. "Stay down!" he yelled back in his face, his back itching with aftershocks and with the horrible doubt that maybe he'd assessed the risks wrongly and was going to get them both killed. Now they were stuck behind the coffee table and it was a matter of seconds before someone went to pick up the dart gun; no one would be stupid enough to wrestle hand-to-hand with either of them, shit, they needed to keep on the move but the men were so twitchy-

Considering how many men with guns and itchy trigger fingers there were in that room, it was still a huge surprise when the first shot rang out.

Strangely, it didn't hurt at all. Maybe they'd winged the alien instead. He flinched, wanted to push himself up and check but that'd only make him more of a target.

"Everyone face down on the floor. Now, if you good gentlemen don't mind. I've twice as many bullets as there are men in this room, and I specialize in head shots."

John relaxed all at once with a shuddery breath, right on top of the alien. Which was a bad idea, because then his head seemed to remember he was dizzy as fuck.

"Now, John? What the sweet dickens is going on here?"

... the other boy was really warm. Not feverish-warm, not that weird sickly aura to it, but at least a couple degrees hotter than John. Huh.

"_John!_"

John shook his head to try to clear his mind. "... 'm fine. Got tasered. I kind of want to pass out a lot."

"You're interfering," Noir ground out from somewhere on the floor. Possibly he hadn't gotten off it yet since the alien boy brained him with a chair (and hadn't that been _awesome_. Granted John could have admired it more without his own sudden issue with screaming pain and locked-up muscles.)

"Sir?"

"Stand your ground."

Aw, crap.

The alien breathed fast, one hand clenched on John's upper arm, hard enough he might even manage to give him bruises. John absently patted the alien's cheek and covered his mouth to silence his irritated growl, and traded a long speaking glance with his half-clone, crouched up there at the corner of the staircase and ready to lay down some cover fire. He flicked a speaking glance toward one of the men, saw Jake give an imperceptible nod back. Now if he tackled this one guy and Jake shot that one then maybe they-

Rose walked in through the open door, not a hair out of place, unthreatening soft curves and slender limbs encased in her purple flight suit. She didn't have a weapon at hand and still looked deadly.

And she was cutting off the invaders' retreat. The way they stiffened, they could tell, too.

"This has gone on long enough."

John started grinning. He exchanged a look with the alien, trying to convey that; the guy glared back furiously, and confused as hell. His hair was all mussed up and in his face, it made John want to giggle.

And then he bit John's hand. John yanked it off his face with a yelp. "Ow - well, sorry! You didn't have to do that, jeeze."

No blood; it'd been a warning bite, no more. John looked up to reassure Rose that he wasn't getting chewed to the bone here; he caught the tail end of a glance as she glided past, his own situation already assessed and dismissed.

"Perhaps the numerous briefings on the topic weren't clear enough. I will summarize: _this building is off-limits_. If that will facilitate your understanding, it was afforded legal rights akin to those of an embassy. You are on foreign soil, Mr. Noir, and there is no extradition treaty."

John pushed himself up into a sitting position. When the alien tried to squirm free from between him and the couch, John pushed him back down with a hand on his chest, in case seeing his gold-eyed face reminded the bunch of adults with guns and a mission that Rose could not, in fact, _literally_ dissect them with a glance. He got hissed at in return, but the alien stayed down, a ball of nerves and clenched-tight muscles.

"This little incursion is not legal and I would wager if it was sanctioned by your superiors at all, it was in a purely unofficial and entirely too deniable way. Perhaps we would have been forced to swallow the incident in silence if you'd succeeded, but you have not. This is over."

Noir struggled back up to his feet, blood caking his temple, and snarled at her. John quickly jumped to his own feet - and almost fell back down as the room seemed to start circling around him. Shit, why couldn't nanites help with that stuff, if Noir attacked Rose...!

"I'm not going to listen to a fucking _brat _not even old enough to _drink_-"

"Then perhaps you'll listen to me."

John started laughing. All the way to the staircase he could hear Jake let out a big gusty sigh, see a flash of a cinema-white dimpling grin. Rose merely allowed a faint smirk to curl the end of her painted lips, and tilted her head as if to say, you heard the man.

"Hey, Dad," John said.

"John, son. I'll be with you in a minute." His father's eyes didn't leave Noir's for one second. And _now _John could see the man hesitate. No wonder; it was one thing getting into a pissing contest with teenagers, no matter how much of a ~_last hope for the human race_~ they supposedly were, but this was one fourth of the Skaialabs Board of Directors right under his nose.

"Oh, please, Mr. Egbert, take your time," Rose demurred, eyes sparkling with sheer evil. The big bad guys in riot gear were starting to do the embarrassed little boy squirm-dance. John could understand. This was the voice of a man who had Raised Kids to Teenagerhood, and they had been Rambunctious and he had Prevailed.

It seemed that contrary to popular belief Jack Noir had actually been a teenager at some nebulous point in his life, because he was kind of squinting a bit like he wanted to flinch instead.

"I leave things here to you, Rose. Please don't forget to document any wounds incurred."

...Whoa, steel voice. John shivered a little, mostly with schadenfreude, as his father gave a curt nod toward the door and the intruders silently filed out. The man he'd knocked out with a book wobbled along, helped by a buddy; Noir glared powerlessly for a few seconds longer before he followed.

John's dad scanned John from head to toe and then back up; John gave him a reassuring smile, a little thumbs up. His father nodded and followed Noir out.

"Oh thank god." John took a step back around the alien and let himself plop into the couch, groaning. "What the hell did they think they were doing?"

He'd landed ass-first in the remains of the fort. Aw, dude, those assholes ruined everything. He dug a book out from under his ass and let his head roll back on the back of the couch with a little frustrated whine.

"Status, everyone?" Rose asked.

"Perfectly unhurt!" Jake piped up. John groaned again and gave her a wincing smile.

"I'm, uh."

"Tasered," Jake helpfully contributed.

Rose slowly made her way to him, one step and then two. John startled a bit when she gave the alien a cautious wide berth, going around the other side of the coffee table.

The guy still stood right in the same place, staring at them all in turn in blindingly obvious, frustrated confusion. (So _alive _though, now.) He side-eyed Rose like he was wondering if he should be tackling the shit out of her; she immediately stopped walking, not looking afraid, so much, just willing to listen. John winced.

"Uh, hey, alienpal? She's fine." He patted the cushions at his side, gave him a hopeful look. "Just sit down, okay?"

All chance of that was lost when Jake braced a gun on his shoulder and tromped down the stairs to join the three of them in the TV corner. Suddenly, cornered kitty. The alien let out a teakettle whistle and bared his row of fangs, hands raised and feet set in an unfamiliar fighting stance. If he'd had fur there would not be a single square centimeter left unspiked.

John sighed, and leaned forward to tug down the back of his hospital scrubs, which were starting to ride up pretty close to the danger zone. The alien jumped and went _gack!_. John cracked up.

"It's fine, it's fine, jeeze, you're such a doubtful guy." Tug, tug. "Come on, come and sit down, it's all good."

He was speared with an utterly incredulous, _are you brain damaged oh hell you totally are I should have known_ look, but then the alien's eyes slid to his chest, where a row of little punctures had left dots of blood. A strange expression passed on his face; after a few seconds he perched on the edge of the couch, slow and cautious, hands clenching on the cushions.

"So," Rose ventured, "are you going to introduce us?"

"Yeah, sure! This is... uh. Err." Oh, right. He turned to the alien, winced his way through a smile. "I'm John," he said, enunciating clearly as possible, and tapped his own chest. "John." He pointed to his friends next, for clarity. "Rose. Jake." Then he pointed his chin at the alien.

For a moment he thought the alien hadn't understood. He was giving John the _why are you so stupid dear lord whyyy _look again and not really trying to answer.

"Do aliens even have names?" Rose mused. "Perhaps this is an entirely human concept-"

"Khrk'th."

Or something like that. Something all full of tongue clicks and growls. John figured he shouldn't have been surprised. He tried to repeat it and failed lamentably, if he could believe the wince on the guy's face.

"Krrkutt? Krukut?"

A short annoyed hiss. "Khhh-_rr_. Kh. T'."

The aspirated H sounded almost like a smothered vowel of sorts, and apparently it went _before_ the first growl, not after, like he'd heard on normal speaking speed. "Kuh... Kar? Kut. No, that sounds stupid. Kat? You make me think of a cat so damn much, with the hissing and the clawing up people, it's crazy. Let's go with Karkat, okay? I don't think my throat will ever untwist trying to say it otherwise."

(He wasn't going to spell it with Cs in his head because that made the name even sillier. Pfft. Lolcat on a ride-on toy car. Ks were badass anyway.)

The alien looked suitably disdainful and sour about it. But after a half-dozen tries, John's and the other humans' names still came out as Zhann, Rrhoz and Zehk, so John felt vindicated.

"Okay, okay, Zhann, good enough."

Apparently facepalms were also an alien thing.

He didn't hiss again when Rose waved Jake back and continued her approach, though he kept a wary eye on her, shoulders slumped and elbows on his knees, head hanging a bit low. Like a dog that expects to be kicked, John thought, but then Rose's hand was tugging at his t-shirt; he pulled it off with a sigh. "The alie - _Karkat_ clawed me up; I kinda tackled him, so... It's already healed, see?" He rubbed at the drying blood. The nanites had kicked in, and in the end they were very shallow puncture wounds; the only traces left were the few red smears on his chest and the holes in his t-shirt. Which he'd been wearing to play in the hangar with the mechanics anyway, so it wasn't in the greatest state to start with.

"The taser issue?"

John tried to wave her off. "I'm fine, I'm fine! Will you stop being so nosy."

Rose speared him with a withering glare. "You're being a little cavalier here, for a person who needed to be rescued from a mess of his own making not two minutes ago."

John wilted.

"Your own high-handed removal of the alien from their custody opened you to this attempt - we can't very well argue it's illegal when you just did the same. We'd have no leg to stand on."

"What was I supposed to do, _petition _people?" he protested, waving toward the alien to illustrate his point as he did his best to stare Rose down. "He'd still be there next year!"

The ali - argh, Karkat was (almost) his name, _Karkat_ - batted John's hand away from his face with an irritated mutter. Rose's eyes tracked his every gesture and expression with unnerving attention; John watched them stare at each other, wondering if he should get in the middle, but after a few seconds Karkat gave and broke eye contact first. John was a bit surprised, considering his memories of the core of stubbornness he'd felt back during their freaky mindmeld thing. Maybe he just didn't want to piss off a potential ally.

"... So far he does seem much easier to handle than what was mentioned. A bit cranky, but that's entirely understandable."

"Mentioned by who?"

"You don't think I haven't accessed all the research done ever since he was brought into custody, do you."

... Duh, John. Rose was so grabby about information, he should have expected it.

She sighed. "I suppose there would be reasons for someone to fight doctors, or their quite determined security. He'd have no reason to hope the tests wouldn't hurt, and once security got involved..."

John grimaced. "Lemme guess, pile up on the alien time."

"John," Rose said softly, "he tore a man's arm out of its socket and disemboweled another. Who was wearing body armor."

John's stomach muscles clenched involuntarily; he had to fight not to curl up, lift his knees in defense of his unprotected guts.

He had known those claws could do some damage from the start. Hell, if he had claws, he'd be more than strong enough to do the same, only he'd probably dig his way from front to vertebras in one sweep, easy, scoop himself a big handful of intestines and organs and things. He didn't need claws to be dangerous, none of his friends did, all were - as that one politician framed it, the one who'd wanted them saddled with dedicated handlers and psychological conditioning - highly lethal.

"... Did they die?"

"No, but it was a close thing. And he wasn't _trying _to spare them."

He watched the alien, who still sat awkwardly perched on the edge of the couch, and who watched him and his sobered expression right back. It was clear from the apprehension he tried and didn't entirely manage to hide that he understood the conversation had taken a turn for the grim, and that he was the one being discussed, and that there was nothing he could do but wait and see what they decided for him.

(And then his dad had taken his pipe out of his mouth, blown out a last smoke ring, and then in the next second he was across the table and the end of his pipe was digging in the man's trachea, pinning him to the back of his seat. 'A simple demonstration, sir! I am a perfectly baseline human being with no psychological inclination to murder, and yet I could still choose to become quite lethal if I ever felt like it.' And then he'd leaned in and fixed the man's tie and collar and smiled, and said, 'They are not weapons, they are _children_. They will be healthy, they will be loved, and God willing once they grow up they will be willing to fight for us, but even if they don't they will still be _our children_.' And behind him Mr. Strider didn't bother to move one inch, except for the way his mouth curled up in the only documented proof that his face wasn't frozen expressionless. It was John's favorite bit of footage ever.)

Karkat wasn't a test tube clone baby to raise up into a good man. He was a pretty-much-adult mech pilot with his own set personality and history, and obviously he could fight hand-to-hand as well, and he had damn good reasons to want to go down fighting. (One of which being those people he loved that he couldn't stand to let down, the other being that it'd probably be better and safer for him and his if he managed to force the humans to kill him.)

He wasn't fighting now. Just waiting, head angled a little to the side, chin tucked in, uneasy. Not confrontational at all (unless that was meant to threaten them with his horns, but they were so little and round, John couldn't imagine them being used as any kind of weapon.)

"I still want to do this," he told Rose, without looking away from Karkat.

Rose gave a slow, unsurprised nod, and then a wry quirk of a smile. "Very well. If you insist." She set her hand on her hip, straightened up, scanned the room with her lips pursed in thought. "Jake, please? The door is shorted out. Could you keep watch for a little while longer? I'll relieve you soon."

Man, John had almost forgotten Jake was here; he was so quiet, which wasn't much like him. He turned to watch Jake blink, shake himself, and flick Rose a smile that wasn't quite as bright and wide as it ought to have been. John winced a little.

"Aw, buddy, sorry - it's the middle of your night, isn't it."

"Never fear, my good man," Jake said, body wavering ever so slightly. "I'll just ... sit and watch. It's almost as good as sleeping."

Jake gave the alien a long measuring look over the rim of his glasses before he turned and ambled away; he dragged an ottoman to the door and sat down with his back to the wall where he could glance outside from relative cover and keep watch on the inside, one of his guns resting casually across his thighs. John watched Karkat note all of that and his mouth take a sour twist. He eventually gave an irritated snort and turned away, stiffening when he saw both Rose and John watching him.

John shrugged at him, and shifted in his seat to pull a cushion from under his butt and give it a sad look. "Man, they _ruined_ that fort. It was such a neat fort, Rose, you'd have liked it - _Karkat _liked it, which says everything."

Rose sighed at him. "Yes, obviously you take superior care of your brand-new pet. Now, I may have missed it in this mess, but... It's been five hours since he was taken off his saline drip. Have you given him anything to drink or eat since?"

"-Um. Oops."

She sighed again - did that a lot around him - turned to the alien, tilted her head. "Karkat?" she said, giving the name a kind of trilling R John couldn't imitate. It still wasn't quite the way the alien pronounced his own name, but he recognized it easily. He went stiff all over again; even more so when Rose took a step and a half-turn back and curled her hand, body language all clear and telegraphed; _going this way, waiting for you_. "Come with me."

Karkat flicked John a look that was a little panicked at the edge. John blinked, startled. Well, okay, Rose _was _scary, but... She hadn't been threatening toward him at _all! _He tried a reassuring smile and shooed him off. "Yeah, yeah. Go with her. I'll-"

"Pick up the mess?"

"... Pick up the mess." Sigh. "Come on, Rose, I'm not even the one who messed it up!"

"Do you want to go find Mr. Noir and ask him to please pick up after himself?" she threw over her shoulder as she walked away. "Because he's really the only other culprit I can figure out."

"Mnrfrgh."

John dragged himself up, put his shirt back on, and started gathering books and cushions. Rose guided Karkat away to the big dinner table at the other end of the room. John couldn't help but steal glances, and the poor guy looked like someone had decided to give his spine a hand supporting all that dense muscle and put a steel rod up his butt. It was kinda funny that he'd be scared of Rose, who he hadn't even seen fight, but not of John really. Then again John had already proved he had no interest in hurting him just for fun... Hm. Rose, emanating an innate, transspecies aura of sadism?

Yep, sounded legit to him.

He found the taser when he was straightening up a chair, and, scowling, kicked it into the nearest wall hard enough the casing splintered.

Ten minutes later he was pretty much done straightening things out. The broken stuff was piled up in a corner. (He owed Jane a new book. This one was all bloody and torn. Um.) He dragged two of the chairs back to the table, shoved them at roughly the right spots, and flopped sideway into one of them. Rose and Karkat broke their latest staring contest and turned to look at him.

"Oh man, a pear. Ngh. Want."

Rose mock-glared, as she busied herself peeling and coring it. "No stealing food from the alien's plate, either. For all you know it might be a mortal offense where he's from. It was hard enough convincing him to eat at all."

There was meat on his plate, mostly that, well-cooked beef, cut in squares. Karkat watched them warily as he picked another bit with his fingertips. John grinned; Karkat's eyelids twitched nervously. Argh.

"Teeth, John."

John huffed. "Gonna be hard to hide those," he grumped, running his tongue over his prominent front teeth. It was pretty much the only big thing that set him and Jake apart, aside from eye color; the rest were all measured in tenth-of-an-inch increments on the planes of their faces. (Too bad it wasn't summer yet, because Jake tanned so fast, coming September he was pretty much brown and stayed that way halfway across to winter. John mostly got lobsterized.)

Karkat sneaked in another bite while they weren't looking at him.

"Hehe, maybe he's shy."

Rose chuckled faintly. "For future reference, he appears to be omnivorous, but there's a lot of preservatives in most of what we have in cans or frozen dinners that he might react badly to. For now protein is the safest bet. He seems to need a higher intake than we would, and fresh vegetables would invite other problems."

John nodded very seriously and tapped the side of his glasses. "Computer, make note. Strict protein diet, all other food groups barred. Does candy count as a food group for the purposes of alien nutrition?"

Rose rolled her eyes at him. "If I catch you feeding him a gusher, I'll tell mom on you. It's already incomprehensible how a human being can eat those confections and not be violently sick as it is." She put the two halves of the pear on the edge of Karkat's plate, whose eyes went all apprehensive again.

John smothered a snicker in his hand. "Oh no, please, not mom, I'll do anything." He nudged Karkat's shoulder with the back of his hand, tilted his head. "Hmm? What's got you so worried, buddy, she's not trying to poison you."

Grumpy scowl, a muttered string of words. He poked at the pear, picked it up with two claws, and gave it a cautious nibble, glowering at John when he caught him watching. John snickered and made a show of looking away from him.

"So! Rose! Tell me neat stuff. I need my knowledge expanded."

She rolled her eyes a bit, but indulged him. "It's extremely puzzling that his biological design is so similar to ours." A little wave of her hand toward Karkat's pretty much human face, his shoulders, his hands. "Did you know he shows no sign of even being a _mammal_? There's vestigial muscle under there that indicate at some point in his childhood he used to have two more limbs. Where are they now? Why did he even lose them?" A helpless shrug. "It's as if the two species were evolved from entirely different starting points but given the same floor maps for the end result. Talk about convergent evolution..."

"Almost makes you wonder if -"

"Don't say it, John!"

He waggled his eyebrows, chin set in his hands. "Intelligent~ _design_~" She picked up a cloth napkin and thwapped him with it. "Ow! Haha."

The towel was still raised for a second hit. Whoops.

"Now you done it, bro."

John startled; he didn't have the time to turn around to face Dave before two slender arms wrapped themselves around his neck from behind and pulled him against the back of his chair.

"Naughty, naughty Lil'bert! Quick, Rosie, punish him, I'll hold him down for you!"

"Ack! Roxy!"

Karkat's chair crashed to the ground as he jumped to his feet. John winced and flailed to free himself from Roxy's arms around his neck, images of the alien grabbing something heavy for his second human-clobbering of the day dancing in his mind.

"_Karkat no-_"

He was perfectly still, they both were, the alien and the blond young man both, Dave's monofilament sword resting light as a feather on his throat. Karkat was pinned, the back of his thighs pressed to the edge of the table, leaning back ever so slightly off balance to keep from slicing his throat open on the blade.

His upper lip was curled up at the corner, though, baring fangs. Uh oh.

John got up slow and cautious, tapped Dave's shoulder to get his attention. "It's okay, bro, Roxy just startled him. Not a half hour ago we had Noir falling on us like a pile of brick, he's twitchy, okay?"

It was hard to see where Dave was looking at with that opaque, wraparound visor on his face, but John had a feeling he hadn't glanced away from his target for even one second. "Train your pet better, Egbert, or get him a muzzle. He gets twitchy at my cuz again, I'm putting him down. You don't know where he's been and we don't want no space rabies on this island."

Roxy huffed and wrapped her arm around Dave's neck, and pressed on his cheek with her other fist until his face looked pretty ridiculously duck-lipped. "Aw, my protector. Swoon, swoon!"

Now was apparently noogie time! Dave's mouth curled down tight at the corners like he was trying not to pout. John bit back a laugh.

"Now stop scaring the alien. He looked wayyy cuter when he wasn't scowling."

Roxy peeked over Dave's shoulder and grinned at Karkat. Dave sighed and took a step back, herding her along with his body, and lifted the blade away. "When he eats your liver and gives you space rabies I will laugh. In my heart, not for real, but you know I'll mean it."

John snickered, at them and at Karkat's incredulous, _oh my god what, just **what**_ expression.

He rested a hand on the alien's shoulder, waited to see if it'd be accepted - yeah, just a quick glance and a light twitch - and then turned his attention to his best friend. He was very cautious to touch the center of the flat of the blade to nudge it farther up, or he probably wouldn't notice he'd been cut until his fingers landed on the floor and things started gushing. The electric current keeping the monofilament rigid tingled through his nail bed for a second, until Dave clicked on the hilt and it turned back into a three-inches wide, floppy ribbon and rewound itself in. The hilt stayed in his hand, slowly twirled between three fingers like a pen by a bored student.

"Right! Let's try this again. One step back, guys, breathing space is a great thing to have! Yeah, good, thanks. Karkat, this is Dave, and Roxy. Roxy, Dave - Karkat."

Roxy's name turned into Rok-chi in his mouth, but that was the closest he'd managed yet, and on the first try. He refused to even attempt Dave's, just glowered at him. His irises were still a bit too dilated for John's tastes, most of the yellow hidden from view.

"Rok-chi! That's so cute! I like it." And then of course Roxy had to eel in between John and Dave before he could stop her and ruffle the alien's hair into a right mess.

Karkat went _gneep_ and jerked back, eyes wide, started to dodge, and then froze under her hand. After a couple of seconds where Roxy kept scritching, he closed his eyes, took a deep, bracing breath, cautiously pushed away her hand - touching her wrist only with the back of his own hand, claws deliberately pointed away - and then he started swearing up a storm. At least if it wasn't swearing John was ready to eat his hat. Dad had gotten him a pretty spiffy one last Christmas.

"And if you fondle my hair again I swear to god I will piss on everything you own!" John dubbed as the alien finally wound down. "And then I'll set it on _fire_. And also fuck the fuck out of you - that one's for me," he added as an aside to his blond friends as Karkat spat out a last machinegun growl-clack his way.

"My, that young man sure has a foul mouth," Rose commented dryly from her seat on the other side of the table, from which she hadn't bothered to move. John gave her an innocent look.

"Yeah, honestly he really does." Okay. Situation more or less defused. He sobered up. "But Roxy..."

She gave a shrug, casual, and stepped off to wander toward the fridge in the kitchen corner. "Now we're pretty sure he won't maul any of us just for getting in his space," she called over her shoulder. "... Well. At least not when there's four of us and one of him in the room."

John scowled at her back, irritated by her dismissive attitude. "Roxy, he's had people feeling him up all over the place for days now!"

"I know." She turned back, a can of soda in her hand; he was startled by how serious her expression was. "And that's sad. But he's still got to live here with us, and I for one really don't feel like tiptoeing all the time because he can't figure out what's friendly touching and what's not, and appropriate use of violence and deadly force, not if I don't really, _really _have to." A shrug, and she opened the can and took a sip, and then grinned over the rim. "But it looks like he gets friendly touching! Even if he doesn't really like it. Tadah, everyone's happy."

"There were better ways to figure that out," John muttered, only he couldn't really think of one but initiating personal space invasion and watching his reaction.

"Perhaps," Rose said. "Or maybe he merely thinks he will get hurt if he doesn't submit."

"Close 'nough for government work", Dave retorted, and went to lean against the counter that blocked out the kitchen space, arms crossed, and still staring. Karkat hissed under his breath, keeping watch on him from the corner of his eye.

"Hey, alienpal. Sit back down. Sit down," he repeated, enunciating more carefully, and showed him the way by pulling back his own chair and taking a seat once again. "Sit down." A pat to the abandoned seat next to him.

Karkat's jaw clenched visibly, muscles rolling under the skin, but he pulled the chair back to the table and sat, body language full of _there, I've done what you wanted, are you happy yet, cause maybe I could also dance for you. Want fries with that?_ _Gnaaargh_.

"Thanks, buddy." He pointed at the abandoned plate. "Still hungry?"

Karkat grimaced faintly.

"Okay, never mind."

Karkat's hands were clenched white-knuckled on the edges of his seat, claws scratching the paint. His eyes kept jerking from John to Rose to Roxy and Dave to Jake over there by the door, and Jake and Dave were pretty much at the very edges of his peripheral vision which he obviously didn't like at all. John threw Rose a pointed look; he was out of ideas, personally.

Rose took a sip of water from her glass and looked back blandly. Silence spread another layer of awkward on the room.

"... uh. Guys! Buddies. Best friends. It's kinda early for you to be off-shift, isn't it?"

"Pretty much done with this wave." Dave shrugged. "Dirk managed to slip through their line and ruin their transport, the usual number of creepymechs has been downed... Unless they had a few more hitchhiking a ride on the transport's bumper, it's over for at least a couple days."

Because yeah, usually, there would be a team of six big monster-shaped biomechs - the ones they all thought were the actual aliens before, like Karkat's Cancer - and a crap-ton of more ship-shaped ones, more obviously manufactured; the aliens' destroyers, same ways the Skaialabs mechs were usually assisted by a net of normal humans in normal battlecruisers and tiny gunboats, and a bazillion sensor arrays to see the aliens coming from a while back. The humongous alien transports ran back and forth to bring more fresh troops in once the humans were done ruining them, relieve the biomechs. Even if the aliens sent another wave sooner than usual they'd still have at least one, maybe two hours' warning to get back in orbit and get ready to meet the assault.

John wondered if Karkat'd had friends over there, in the transport ship, how he was going to react knowing they'd pushed back another attempt so decisively.

The aliens seemed to have such overwhelming numbers to throw at the humans, all of humanity's strategists were tearing out their hair trying to figure out why the heck they didn't try to merely overwhelm Earth under superior numbers. It'd be doable. What the heck was going on up there? Were their commanders asleep? Incurably incompetent? He couldn't figure it out - Karkat seemed sharp as a whip, surely the species as a whole couldn't be functionally retarded as compared to humans.

"We'll need intel from him," Rose said quietly, "as soon as we can communicate."

"Stop reading my mind," John snapped back, less joking, more irritated than he should have been. "And I told Doc Lalonde I wouldn't do interrogations."

"If we can't produce results from this situation it'll be deemed too dangerous to allow. It doesn't matter what I told Mr. Noir, our progenitors don't actually have absolute rights. They're probably going to have to trade in a lot of favors to allow this to continue. Give ground on some things they'd been refusing to. We're not asking you to _torture _the alien, John, but there needs to be _results_."

John made a frustrated growl and raked both hands through his hair, elbows pressed to the table.

"... Zhann?"

"-Huh? Oh." Karkat was staring at him, heavy brows furrowed in worry. John managed a smile somehow; he wasn't sure if it was all that reassuring.

"'S a waste of resources, too," Roxy said, dragging his attention away from the alien. "'Cause seriously this building is made to keep people out, not in. We can't swear he wouldn't escape. So that means he'll need a guard to stick to him like a tick to Bec's furry butt. And he's stronger than a baseline dude, so he needs the guard to be one of _us_. Or maybe even like two of us. Problem is, during crunch times we can only afford to be dirtside when we gotta snooze like whoa. I mean, if you don't even get a tasty chunk of data to feed all our thinky people out of it, it's just not an effective allocation of resources."

Dave of course was no support on this, and Jake, at the other end of the big room, was flopped against the wall at his back and looked half asleep and not really listening. John slumped on his crossed arms, capitulating. "Fine. Pop a crown on me. I am the king of nosy question, it is me. Just as soon as we teach him English! Or you guys pry some more of that mindmeld goop out of the Research Division's tight-fisted grasp."

"Don't worry about that," Rose said, and she and Roxy exchanged a really worrying look. Eep.

"Alright, officially not worrying about that. All worrying has been delegated to you girls. I'm sure you'll distribute it well." He pushed himself up on his elbows; Karkat had been staring at him weird when he laid with his cheek to the table.

Rose tapped at the edge of her glasses. John wondered who she was chatting with, or if she was just recording things or accessing a file. Jade's eyes always unfocused visibly, and John himself tended to let his lips and throat move the tiniest bit when he thought at the computer glasses, even though the tech didn't even need him to subvocalize anything, just to think typing thoughts hard enough - but with Rose it was pretty much impossible to tell she was surfing unless you caught her turning them on. Even then she could have turned them on by thinking hard enough, too; the tapping was mostly a courtesy.

"... Alright. House rules. Jane sent me a few suggestions. They mesh with what I was going to suggest anyway."

"She's awake? But then why doesn't she-"

"John!"

"-Um, sorry." He threw the alien a quick, guilty glance. He could imagine why Jane was keeping to her dorm.

"First, he must not be left alone, at any point."

John sighed. "Okay, I can agree with that one, at least for now. We'll need to reevaluate at some point, but yeah, okay."

"Yes, yes. Second, no hangar access."

"Well, duh." Though he couldn't help but grimace. No hangar for Karkat meant no hangar and no Warhammer repairs for him, unless he could trade guard duties with Dirk; Dave and the alien hadn't had the most auspicious start, Jake might get distracted or want to wrestle or something, Rose'd be too busy, Roxy would probably grope his butt, and Jade and her tiny friendliness he might not take seriously until she proved herself to him but John would rather not get his alien boy back full of holes if he could avoid it.

"Third - if he shows any sign of physical aggression he goes back to the labs. I'm not talking of growls and bared teeth and startle responses, as long as they exist to _get away_; if he makes a deliberate move to injure anyone, even if he doesn't succeed, that's it, he goes straight back to UNE custody."

John stiffened.

"Yeah, have to agree with this one," Roxy said, looking a little sad. Dave gave a single, firm nod.

John turned to the door. "... Jake?"

"-Uh, what? Oh right." Rubbing his eye, Jake leaned forward on his seat, elbows on his knees, smothered a yawn. "Sorry chap, it sounds right sensible to me. I mean, what if he goes after tech support? Or your dad? Can't afford the risk."

The thing was, he could tell Rose didn't enjoy telling him, but if she hadn't, Dave would have anyway. (He might have taken it better from Dave, but mostly because, well. It was easier to ignore Dave than Rose when you could tell yourself he didn't know what he was talking about, hadn't planned for all possible contingency plans.)

Or Jane would have had to say it, and it would have been worse.

".. Okay. But you better hurry up with the communication thinger, because I'm not sure how to explain that to him in mime."

He resisted the urge to flop again. His alien was... huh, still digging his claws in the side of his seat. The metal was dented. There was no way he would relax against the back anytime soon, either. Blargh. Short of force-cuddling the nervousness out of him, John wasn't sure what to do about it, and even then cuddling might just backfire and prompt another _oh my stars and garters where's my blasted rape whistle_ episode.

Uh. Even if he cuddled guys, which he didn't. Well, unless it was funny. Or they were really, really sad. Dirk in a hospital waiting room thinking he'd gotten Mr. Strider killed levels of sad.

- Or they were his dad, okay, he had no problem being manly enough to enjoy dadhugs, and actually Karkat seemed to him more of a defensive type than one who aggressed first, no matter how bitchy he was. His whole piloting style was based on blocking and counterattacking, even. Likely it would never come up.

The attacking and being put back in UNE custody, that was. Not the cuddling.

Okay what the heck brain.

He just... It disturbed him, remembering that raw grief, that soul-deep shame. Note to self, mindmelds weren't very conducive to emotional detachment.

But he'd never been the objective type anyway. That was Rose's shtick.

"... Gloomy! Anyone want a beer?"

"Oh, Roxy, honestly!" Rose protested. John watched them, half-slumped on the table, as Rose joined her sister in the kitchen corner to snark and Roxy gleefully took all that sarcasm as wrong-footed as possible as she drank her beer anyway.

Dave seemed to like his spot right at the edge of Karkat's vision, so the alien would have to stop tracking either him or Jake if he wanted a real good look at the other one. Then again Jake looked pretty much asleep and not about to move anytime soon. "Hey, buddy?" John called. "Bud - _Jake Harley!_" Voice booming, rusty-deep."_Inspection!_"

Jake jerked up before his eyes were even open. John snickered. "I'm awake, Gramps! I'm awake. Cripes. I was just resting my _oh go to hell John_."

Pffhahaha.

Jake found a TV remote on the floor and threw it at him. John tilted his head to let it sail past and snatched it as it flew by, and lobbed it at the couch. It proceeded to land at an angle and bounce off back to the floor, where it clattered in a way that implied part of it had come off. Oops.

"Are you guys destroying everything in sight again?"

"Um, no, Rose, what would make you think such a thing," they chorused in perfect sync, the exact same line from times immemorial.

Rose huffed at them. "Can't you lob, oh, I don't know, pillows?"

"Maybe doilies?" Roxy suggested mock-innocently. "Less damage."

"Huh, wouldn't say so. Bet if you throw them right you could have a mean replacement shuriken," Dave contributed, face entirely serious. "Tie some sparkly shit at the edges for weight and sharp edges and it'll double as a sick crystal ball cosy."

"Stained in the blood of your victims," John said around a leer.

"Don't make me get my knitting needles, boys, I still need to replenish my stock of sanguine pigment."

Jake and John snickered behind their hands. Jake immediately went on to smother a yawn.

"... You can go to bed, Jake. We're more than enough to keep watch."

"Are you certain?" Jake asked. Rose nodded. John shrugged. "Well then. I'll wander bedwards. I'm fit to fall asleep right on my feet."

He dragged himself up and trundled off back up the stairs with a last little wave. Rose drifted by, picking up a book to get herself seated on one of the couches. Still behind Karkat and the door, though less directly so, less visibly guarding. She didn't have a weapon out, and Karkat seemed slightly more ready to trust she wouldn't pounce from behind, because he immediately shifted most of his attention back onto Dave, who kept leaning against the counter with his arms crossed and his impenetrable visor.

John wasn't too sure what to do with the alien. He was quiet and stayed put, and didn't seem hungry or sick or aggressive, just wary, and John had nothing he could think of that he ought to try and communicate right now.

"... Hey Rox. How'd the battle go up there? I'm missing all the action."

Her eyes started gleaming in satisfaction. John settled in for an epic tale (or a hilarious one, but either one'd be good.) Dave joined in maybe three sentences in, and then John had nothing to do but laugh and nod and exclaim at the appropriate parts, and snicker when they corrected each other, mostly on their respective level of Badass Mofoitude.

Maybe fifteen minutes later his dad was back, pipe puffing at a jaunty, self-satisfied angle, trailed by a couple of repairmen that he set to work on the door before walking in. "I'm back, children! How did things go here?"

Rose put her book away. John bounced off his chair and went to him. "It's fine! Everything went fine. And you?"

His father's eyes crinkled. "Mr. Noir's excess of zeal shall not be a problem again for a while. He has been set on bodyguard duties for a returning visitor who will keep him very busy."

"Woo! You rule."

Rose distracted his dad from eyeing the little bloody holes in John's shirt via unleashing a truckload of politicking questions. John's eyes glazed over three sentences in. He stayed by, though, arms crossed loosely and shoulder almost touching his dad's. It was just... it was nice. He was a young adult, pretty much - okay, not quite but getting there - but sometimes it was... just nice, to stand beside a man who he knew would strangle people with his own hat before he let them get to John, even though John was stronger and more resilient and better trained and it really oughta be the other way around. It'd be the other way around if they got attacked for real, John promised himself, but in the meantime...

Mmh.

"You seem a bit tired, son. How long have you been up?"

"Oh, uh. I don't even remember, the day feels like it lasted weeks. I was already working at seven, I remember that..." He checked his glasses for this morning's login. "I got up at - oh, wow, okay, yeah." It was still early but apparently he'd woken up with Jake, who was on a second-half-of-the-night-to-mid-afternoon cycle, and dozed for a couple hours before getting up for real.

"Hm. Your young guest also seems rather ready to call it a night. How did you all decide to handle this?"

"Uh - well, he can't be alone, so..." John frowned a bit. "He can't sleep out here anyway, the door's not even fixed and it's not hard to open from the inside even if it was. I dunno if the guys'll be okay sleeping in the same room with him though."

"I like it better," Dave contributed from the other end of the room. Karkat's head twitched around from their group back to him, eyebrows furrowed in concentration and... yeah, Dad was right, lined with exhaustion. "Better keep him close. After the last prank wars we all wake up on a hair trigger anyway."

"Uh yeah, but where...? Think Dirk would mind if-"

Dave snorted. "Yeah, dude, he damn well would and you know it, he's coming back from patrol in five hours and if his bed's taken he'll kick you clean out of yours. Anyways, your alien, your problem."

John sighed. There wasn't a free bed anywhere on the island due to all their annoying guests. Well, maybe they had some free ones in the barracks they'd built in a hurry off to the east side to accommodate the guards, but John wasn't going to the heart of Noir's fiefdom to ask if he could pretty please borrow a mattress.

"I guess I could appropriate a clinic bed, buuut..."

"Yes, this does not seem to be the best idea, considering," Rose replied with a faint dismayed grimace.

His father frowned thoughtfully. "Tomorrow I'll go buy a camp bed for you. For tonight, I'm afraid you'll have to make do. Do you know how to find the extra blankets? That should make the floor tolerable for one night."

"Um, yeah, sure," John replied, because of course his dad was right, you didn't make a guest sleep on the floor, honestly. But at the same time, urk.

He went back to the kitchen table, where Karkat still sat, stiff and kind of... worn, smaller-looking. And still in his sadly rumpled hospital gown, which didn't help.

"Hey, Karkat?" His voice went a bit soft when he spoke through no conscious decision on his part; it was a bit embarrassing how Dave's eyebrow went up over it, but he tried to ignore it.

"Hrrn?"

"Come on. Time to sleep. Come with me." He copied the gesture Rose had used along with the words, the half-step back, waiting. After a couple of seconds, Karkat pushed himself up on his feet and followed. He walked like a cat in unknown territory, one foot neatly placed after another, not making any sound, and making damn sure to keep John where he could take cover behind him if he had to without being too close just yet. Eh, so long as he followed.

"G'night, Dad." John made a detour for a hug. "G'night, Rose. Dave. Come on, guestbuddy, let's go upstairs."

Up and up and up.

First things first... He opened the bathroom door and led him in. It was big inside, one wall lined with sinks and mirrors and littered with various toothbrushes and hair brushes and makeup and shaving cream and hair gel, the other with stalls. The next door led to lockers, and two separate communal shower rooms, but there was no need to go check that out yet. John showed Karkat how to operate the sink and fill a glass - ideally he wouldn't come here alone anyway, but he might be thirsty now... nope, wasn't, he didn't want the glass. John showed him the content of the stalls next, arched an eyebrow.

"Do I need to explain that one to - oh hey that was a relieved look on your face, wasn't it. Do you want to-"

Whoops Karkat was inside and had closed the door neatly under his nose. John blinked for a minute, nonplussed - maybe he was trying to escape? Hide from him?

... or maybe he was having a good long tinkle. Pffhehehe. John used the time for a lightning-quick pee break of his own and then went to wash his hands. And wash his hands. And, uh, wash his hands some more, um, was he taking a dump or something even though he hadn't eaten any solids in days apart from like not even a hour ago...

... It was a little weird listening in on a guy on the toilet. Uh. Even kind of creepy. But eventually he concluded that, no, Karkat was pretty much done. He was just... Maybe he just wanted to be alone for a little while, feel safe, even if the walls were flimsy and didn't even go all the way up or down. John washed his teeth and his face and even shaved the five o'clock shadow on his jaw, but eventually he was out of little things to do in there and his eyes were getting gritty. He went to knock quietly at the door.

"Karkat? You okay? You gotta come out now, pal."

A few seconds went by, and then the toilet flushed and the door was reluctantly opened.

Karkat's eyes were redder, John was pretty sure of it. Almost bruised-looking. He didn't quite meet John's eyes.

There was no fight left in him. John couldn't help reaching out and clasping his shoulder, gentle as possible.

"Aw, buddy."

Karkat bowed his head, staring away at the floor, embarrassment flickering there and gone behind the utter emotional exhaustion. John's arms were around him the next second.

Okay, looked like he did give boys hugs. Well.

He didn't keep it up, released him after barely two seconds; Karkat had gone stiff as a board pretty much immediately, and it was awkward, John hadn't even planned on it and he didn't want to try to see if he'd eventually melt if the hug kept up long enough, or if he'd just get worse.

"Haha. Um. Yeah. Come on. Come with me."

Whee. If he led the way he didn't have to look at Karkat's face! (Or let him see his own. Win/win.) A quick stop by a cupboard for extra blankets, and then he was pushing the boys' dormitory room door open and tiptoeing inside. All four of them could usually sleep through a lot of noise, due to having such different schedules, but Jake'd had a shitty night as it was.

It was fairly dark inside after he closed the door but John knew where everything was. He pointed at the bunks on the left, up and down, "Dave, Dirk," and then to the right, "Jake, John." Jake's arm hung from the edge of his bunk as he lay sprawled on his stomach. John went on tiptoes to peek - yup, way asleep.

Karkat just stood in the middle of the room and stared.

"Come on," John whispered, and made hand gestures again. And nope, Karkat still wasn't moving. Maybe his night vision was bad. John reached for his wrist and tugged him forward as he knelt on the edge of his bunk, ducking underneath Jake's.

And uh, wow, 'stiff' didn't even cover it. Was he shivering? "Karkat? Hey, it's okay. Come down here." He got back up out of the bunk, carefully laid a hand on the alien's shoulder, turned him and pushed down to get him to sit on the mattress. "Yeah, there, good. Uh, move back a bit." He made shooing motions with his hand.

With twitchy, jerky kicks Karkat pushed himself backward on the mattress until his back was pressed against the bottom wall. He didn't lay down, though, just hugged his knees to his chest, a dim lumpy shape in the dark.

He looked like he had on the couch, all tense and lost and afraid. ... Maybe he'd like hiding again. John considered the blankets he'd dumped on the bed, and started tucking them in the bottom of Jake's bunk to make a tent.

It was dark as a smuppet's hand hole under there when John sat at the edge of his bed, the last free opening, to tuck the inside in properly. Reclining half-in half-out against the headboard with a foot on the floor, he could barely guess where Karkat was from the dip in the mattress caused by his weight, the almost-subconscious awareness of the radiating heat of his body or maybe merely his presence.

He sat in silence, waiting for his eyes to adjust a little bit more, waiting for... he wasn't sure, some kind of movement. There wasn't.

He was so tired, didn't want to get up and go back for more blankets, now that two of his were serving as a wall (wasn't allowed anyway, that'd leave a sleeping Jake alone with him and no matter how pitiful some alien prisoner was John was _not _risking his half-clone-cousin.) It felt warm and cozy in there, and his mattress was pretty wide, and if he inched his other leg very slowly inside and reclined a bit more... to make himself comfortable...

He did feel a little guilty, to force Karkat to share. His dad would be all _Oh, son_ if he knew. But, um. That way he'd know if he moved during the night? Yeah. let's, uh, go with that tactical... assessthing... mnh.

The mattress moved a little as he was falling asleep, but Karkat wasn't trying to leave, so John decided he wasn't going to care and went right on nodding off.

The only thing he remembered from his dreams was an infinite matrioshka of round-eyed little owls, staring at him through their tree-holes.


	4. Chapter 4

_My god but I love culture clashes and ethnocentrist assumptions._

* * *

John woke up the next morning via a kick to the face. Or at least that was what he deduced while sitting on the floor with a blanket draped over half his face, his hand pressed to the explosion of pain in his cheekbone, watching the alien flail.

It was hard to be all that angry when Karkat didn't even seem awake.

"I take it the honeymoon's over?" came, rough-voiced, from the lower bunk at his back.

"Oh, shut it, Dirkface." John pushed himself up on his knees, pressed his hands on the edge of his mattress, and felt around for his glasses, so he could fix the level of ambient light without having to turn on a light and attract the Wrath of Dave. The alarm clock and electronic doodads all over the place gave the dormitory a permanent gloom, but it wasn't enough for details.

The alien was curled in a ball at the bottom end of the mattress. Yeah, John'd been right, his eyes were definitely closed. He kept twitching, though, eyebrows scrunching and jaw tensing and releasing, little bursts of aborted movement running all through his body, tightening his stranglehold on the pillow he'd wound himself around.

Definitely not a good dream.

"Karkat?" John tried to keep it at a whisper, worked hard as he could to reproduce the right sounds, the rolling R, the clacking tongue. "K'rkat, shh."

Okay, whispers weren't working. He stretched out over the mattress, cautious, and poked him in the knee.

If he hadn't been damn fast he would have gotten his hand kicked into pieces. He felt a rush of air as Karkat's foot scythed past his nose. "Whoa!"

"_Arhit'zanikh_- uhn. Nn. ...Zhann? Sst'kh?"

Ouch. Now that had been a nice alien yell there at the start. From Dave's top bunk rose a sleepy but nevertheless pissed-off growl.

"Uh oh." John threw a look over his shoulder. Um. Yeah. Nothing was moving up there yet, but Dirk's cynical, amused look was clear as day. John jumped up on his feet and hurried to the wardrobe to get two changes of clothes. He palmed the door open, turned to look at his bed. "_Karkat come with me hurry now now now!_"

Karkat wrestled himself past the blankets and pillows in a great, baffled, half-asleep hurry and dashed to the door. John pulled him outside, flattened himself on the corridor wall the second he was past the doorway, and slapped the door control closed. The door whooshed closed only a fraction of second before something heavy thunked on it and thumped to the floor.

"Phew." He started laughing. "Okay, let's not stay here, what if Dave chases us."

"... Dev?" Karkat was squinting under the dimmed corridor lights, brow furrowed more with each passing second. "Dev n'ralekh akat-"

John was pretty sure he could translate, no matter that he couldn't parse even half the noises Karkat was making. The gist of it went 'Dave is such a massive dickhead seriously what the fuck I really don't like that guy.'

He shrugged. "He has other qualities! Being woken up early doesn't really let them shine. It's very sad and you should pity him for it."

"_I can still hear you._"

John snickered again and caught Karkat's wrist to tow him away.

"Zhann - _nrrh!_"

This one sounded more like a frustrated noise than a word. Then again a lot of his words were frustrated noise. John pointed at the door. "Bathroom! Come with me."

Glower! Oh hey, maybe he just wanted his wrist back. John released him. He was about to need that hand to open the door anyway; his other hand was busy holding the clean clothes.

The lights were lit. "Morning!" he called as he walked in. "Anyone in here?"

Jake called out an indecipherable greeting from the boys' shower room. John could hear the water from here. He dumped his armload on a sink counter and pointed toward the toilets, eyebrows arched in question. Karkat gave a little grunt and went.

John had to take this guard thing seriously, or Rose would frown at him. Hrrm. "Jake? I gotta piss, mind keeping an eye out for escape attempts or I don't even know what?"

His half-twin emerged soapy and dripping from the door, lower body mostly hidden behind the edge. "Sure thing, but if he decamps I am _not _chasing him in my birthday suit."

"Yeah, yeah. Thanks."

John disappeared to another stall. When he came out Karkat was, to his great surprise, not still locked up, but leaning over a sink, giving his own reflection the stinkeye and stealing the half of Jake's naked self he could see past the doorjamb wary little glances. Jake gave John a salute as he reemerged and disappeared hurriedly, chanting "Cold cold _cold_~"

John went to wash his hands and drink some, and then turned to face the alien.

Karkat's hair was a royal mess, even worse than it had been after the goop, worse than after Roxy had a go at it. His horns weren't even visible, only a few flecks of gold showing through all those dark tangles. The shadows under his eyes were charcoal, his skin was a bit sticky-linty where he'd had electrodes glued on, and the hospital gown was good for the trashbin.

Um. Especially since sleeping in it had twisted it around a bit. Loosened the waist some. And now there was a slit of bared skin from mid-thigh up to the hollow of his hipbone, where the belly dipped in and kinda led the way to uh oh god this was steering way too close to alien crotch.

Not that he could see anything! But it was a matter of inches, really. A distressingly small number of inches.

"_Hsssst._"

"-Aha. Ha. Uh. Yeah. Shower time." Somehow showering all together in wholesome brotherhood seemed less weird than seeing him in that particular state of rumpled undress.

When he looked up Karkat looked weird, like he wanted to look away but wasn't letting himself, the tip of his ears grown darker, vaguely ruddier. Nervous.

"... Seriously you're not my type. I swear it's just morbid fascination. Come on, pal."

John started undressing in the locker room, dumping his old stained shirt on the floor to be thrown into the rag bin later on; his pants and underwear went in the laundry basket, as did his socks. He put his glasses in a locker with the changes of clothes, got clean towels, turned around. Karkat was staring at him from the doorway, claws digging in the wall like he was trying to anchor himself, kind of like 'you'll have to bring the wall along if you want me to take a step farther in'.

For a brief instant John was really tempted to throw up his hands and call Jake over so he could help drag Karkat under the shower and yank that stupid hospital thing off him. For fuck's sake.

No doubt there'd be blood on the tiles by the end if he did.

With a sigh, he tied a towel around his waist, making sure his crotch stayed hidden. He offered the second towel in silence, staring at the alien until he took a couple of hesitant steps in and took it from his hand, and then he nodded toward the scrubs and made a throw-away motion toward his own dirty shirt in the corner.

The tension was starting to get thick enough to choke on.

Jake started singing. John blinked - Karkat blinked - and broke into a rueful smile. "I won't even watch." He made a show of turning around, fiddling with things in the locker. Should have thought to grab shoes; going around in the corridors with damp, bare feet wasn't the cleanest thing ever. Oh well.

The scrubs fluttered to the floor. John counted to ten and turned around. Karkat was fiddling with the towel, both hands apparently necessary to hold the spot where it tucked in on itself like it might otherwise spontaneously fall off. John didn't have the heart to tell him he'd be taking it off again in about ten steps.

"Alright. Come on."

Shampoo and liquid soap and washcloths and other things hung in a basket by the door. John picked up a bottle at random and pulled off his towel, dropping it carelessly on the bench against the wall opposite the showers. Jake was wrist-deep in foam and busy scrubbing away at his hair, and still singing. John chose the shower two down from him; he turned it on, stepped under the spray, and squirted a generous palmful of Platinum Shine Deep Clean For Men (Dave could only kill him once) in his hand. Rub, rub, rub.

Karkat was still at the door. John turned, side to the wall, so he could eye him over his own shoulder.

(Oh hey, no nipples. Then again Rose _had _said he showed no sign of being a mammal at all. There _was _a bellybutton, though, if a little higher than John expected it.)

Okay, he knew a lot of humans who weren't comfortable with being naked around strangers. And for all he knew they were being ridiculously offensive to alien sensibilities right now. _My eyes were defiled so, I can never get married!_ kind of thing. But it was still annoying!

"Karkaaat."

Tiny flinch.

"Kaaaaaarkat."

Eyetwitch.

"Karkat, Karkat, Ka_rrrr_kat. Karkittykat. Karcrabby. Karcutie. Kittykittykitty."

Apparently getting him annoyed enough that he forgot he was scared worked pretty well. Karkat snatched a bottle and washcloth from the bin and stomped across the room like a miniature, irritated stampede. John grinned at him and pointed his chin at the showerhead next to his in the corner. He kept himself facing the wall, so Karkat wouldn't feel stared at.

Karkat hesitated for a second, and then yanked his towel off, lobbed it at the bench, and stepped up to his spot. He started prodding at the shower controls, scowling in fierce concentration. John decided to let him have at it; they weren't that complicated, and he was a smart guy.

"_IYAH!_"

Also this was Dirk's preferred shower, and he always finished on a freezing note. Pffhehehe.

"Egad," Jake said from his other side. When John glanced his way he was grabbing onto the wall with one hand and at his heart with the other, a bit dramatically. "Er. Startled me just a bit, there."

John couldn't help but smirk wide. Two vict-um, prankees in one go! He tried to smother it as he turned his attention back to Karkat, made his voice soothing as possible, which wasn't easy when chuckles kept pushing to be let out. "There, you twist this knob in that direction. Try it again."

He got a growl for his trouble. Karkat tested the water with his hand first, letting out a little grunt that John interpreted as _good enough_.

His, uh, bathing suit area seemed kind of weird. Hard to say exactly how from the corner of his eye, though. And John didn't want to be caught staring, that'd be kind of embarrassing. Chuckling, mostly out of feeling kinda stupid, he turned back to the wall and started scrubbing at his hair in earnest. He used the foam dripping down in big fat gobs to wash the rest of himself once he was done, adding a remorseless second squirt of Dave's shampoo when that proved not to be quite enough.

Karkat's skin looked really gray, contrasted with white foam, pure slate with not even a vaguely reddish cast to it. At least on his shoulders; the rest, well, he'd turned three-quarters away, all tense, and John couldn't see much of his face, just that mass of hair, soaked into relative flatness until the jagged ends almost reached his shoulders. Though now John could see most of the orange part of his horns, and even a hint of where the gradation into brick red started. It really was a weirdly intense, flashy color, compared to the rest of him.

"Have you no shame!" Jake exclaimed. John flinched and turned to look at him. Jake was trying not to laugh. "Ogling pretty alien boys in the shower."

"Ogling alien _horns!_" John protested. "Come on, my head would be angled different if I were looking at his butt."

"Who was talking about his butt?" Jake demanded to know, eyes sparkling. "Here I thought your curiosity piqued at his more... shall we say, non-human parts."

John spluttered, and wiped some foam off his face where it had almost slipped in his eye. "Like you'd know that if you weren't curious too! - I mean, it's just kinda weird and that's normal and shut up."

Jake was now cackling openly, a dimpling grin showing way too many perfect white teeth. "I didn't say I wasn't curious about that bit! But for the rest, it's a pretty normal-looking posterior. Perhaps we oughta ask Dirk his expert opinion. Obviously it seems an important question for you - whoa!"

John growled and whipped the towel at his annoying half-clone again. Jake dodged in a controlled slide on the wet floor and went for his own towel; John tried to block the way, but was jostled aside with a daring shoulder to the chest as Jake ducked under his arm. John grabbed at his elbow and towel-whipped him across the back with his other hand, though it was too close-range to build sufficient momentum.

After that they were wrestling, each grabbing the other's upper arms and trying to trip each other. John wasn't shy about using his superior strength to slowly but inexorably push him back to where he'd be trapped against the bench. He grinned fierce and a little mean when Jake noticed.

"Gnn - curse you, Egbert, I'll get you back!"

"Hah! Just you try it, you-"

Dirk walked into them. Quite deliberately. One of his elbows found Jake's chest and finished dumping him ass-first on the hard bench; his other arm hooked John's neck and suddenly John was bent over at the waist and tripping to follow, yelping when he ended up forcefully guided back to his own shower, in a way that made him bump into the controls and be suddenly drenched in _holy fuck that's cold_.

"What the hell was that for!" he protested, sputtering.

"Forgot to rinse that shampoo off," Dirk informed him laconically, and threw a glance back over his shoulder. "Harley, do _you _need help with rinsing?"

Jake meekly pushed himself back up and went back to his own shower. "No sir."

"Don't know about Dave but Bro will be up soon, so if you're done you might want to clear out."

Jake heaved a sigh and went back to spray himself a last time and pick up his shower things, and left still dripping heavily. Dirk turned back to John, who tried on an innocent grin but didn't keep it long in the wake of an unimpressed orange stare.

"Yes?"

"You keep forgetting the alien is not one of your buddies, John."

John's smile fell, and his arms too. He wiped foam away without looking, staring at his teammate. His stomach was clenched with sudden shame, and it made him angry. He tried to keep a lid on it but his voice came out just as low and intense as Dirk's had been. "If he wanted to attack me when he doesn't even know where the hell he is or where to go from here, he would have done it already. If I'm not going to trust that I can turn my back on him two seconds in a room he can't leave without me seeing him then I should just get him shackles already."

Dirk gave a slow blink, and a little nod toward past John's shoulder. "You scared him."

John flinched around to look at Karkat. Karkat blinked to find himself stared at, furrowing his eyebrows in confusion. He didn't look that scared anymore; actually maybe a little relaxed, the hot water turned high enough to steam up the walls, though John's stare was making him stiffen up again. John grumbled under his breath and turned back to glare at Dirk. "He's not scared."

"He doesn't have the first fucking idea what's going on in this madhouse and here you were, fighting, with super strength, and blocking the only way out. Maybe he wasn't scared but he was still pretty fucking tense. You didn't notice."

John spluttered, torn between anger and rising guilt. Karkat didn't look traumatized at all; his left eyebrow had quirked up in a "no, seriously, what the heck?" way but apart from that he was still busy rubbing the sticky, fuzzy patches of glue off his torso, hips turned slightly away.

And hey, that wasn't foam, those randomly placed whitish patches and lines dotting his body were part of his skin. There was a pretty big, puckered one under the side of his ribs.

"He does have a pretty choice ass," Dirk commented casually, and started washing.

"_How long were you listening?_"

"Dude, I was brushing my teeth, not spying. If you two clowns didn't hear me it's not my fault."

"And no ogling the alien's ass!" John yelled right over him, incensed. "Bad Dirk! No perving!"

Dirk gave a slow, slow blink and shook his head, and went back to his shower. "Right. I'm ... just going to let this one... rest here. For posterity."

John gave him the stink-eye. "What are you on about now?"

"It's too ironic for you, it'd go right over your head."

"No, seriously!"

"Tell you when you're older."

John huffed out an annoyed breath and finished rinsing. Karkat's shower had gone silent; when he turned around he found his corner empty. Karkat himself was sitting gingerly on the bench by the wall, rubbing his legs dry with the towel, and gave him a wary look like he wasn't entirely sure that was alright.

It really, really bothered John when he reacted like that. Sure he was a prisoner of war and his culture was likely different so he didn't know what to expect and uh okay John wasn't exactly offering the standard human prison experience either, but...

John still remembered how fierce his mind had felt, and now he walked on eggshells pretty much all the time unless John deliberately nagged him into forgetting it, and that didn't even last - just a flash of temper and then it fizzled out.

(What had they _done _to him, the interrogators, the doctors, _what had they done_, had they broken him? No, he'd fought Noir, he still glared, snarled. Maybe it was too early and John was expecting things to be swept away too fast, maybe after his pseudo-catatonia thing he was just tired and needed a couple days of quiet rest to regroup. John would have to ask the doc.)

"... Zhann," Karkat started warily, and then grumbled a long, mildly irritated tirade.

"I didn't get any of that, buddy!" John replied with a bright smile, because what else could he do, seriously.

Karkat groaned and massaged the bridge of his nose.

... And then he blinked at John's crotch and looked away hurriedly, cheeks visibly darkening. John blinked and then burst out laughing, though he did hurry to go pick up his towel from the floor and tie it around his waist, a little red-faced himself. "Karkat! Oh man, I'm shocked. _Shocked! _"

"You're the one giving him full frontal face-level man-sausage, dude. Can't blame him for having working eyes."

John stuck out his tongue. "One of these days I'm going to get you, Strider. I'm going to get you so good your grandchildren will still be whispering the story to scare each other."

"Uh huh. Unless you're being coy and trying to hint you want those grandchildren with me you'd better put your schlong away."

John sputtered. "It's away! I'm wearing a towel!"

"Pfft, that's less of a deterrent and more of a suggestion."

John went meep and sidestepped a little farther away from Dirk. The bastard was smirking. Barely there, but obvious enough for someone who had been raised with him from age eight.

"One day you'll figure out exactly why you keep losing at gay chicken against me, Egbert. One day..."

"Stop smirking, you asshole! Grnmbrr. Karkat, come on, let's go get dressed already."

He picked up his bottle and Karkat's and went to put them back in the basket, and stomped his way to his locker. At least he could use the door to hide part of his goods; now that Karkat apparently got all embarrassed over it, it _was _embarrassing, go figure. He handed Karkat a t-shirt, clean undies and jeans without looking, and busied himself shimmying into his own briefs.

Next he put on his glasses, because he had his priorities. A message popped up almost immediately.

**JN: Morning, John. Where are you?**

**JH: hey sis! long time no see.  
JH: and lockers, getting dressed. why?**

**JN: No reason. Coming down for breakfast?**

**JH: uh, duh. when have you ever seen me passing up on food, especially in the morning. i mean unless it's cake or something. why do you  
JH: oh. right.  
JH: karkat's with me. is that okay?**

A few seconds of silence. John used them to put on his pants, frowning. He was in the middle of pulling his shirt over his head when the next message popped up.

**JN: It's fine, John, despite all appearances to the contrary I am in fact not made of spun glass! News at eleven.**

**JH: :/ sorry for being worried!**

**JN: ... it's alright, I'll be fine.  
JN: Also I'm the big sister, I'm the one supposed to mother you! By the way guess what I'm making for breakfast. :B**

**JH: nnnoooooooooo! D:**

**JN: Yes.  
JN: Heck yes.**

**JH: i'm disconnecting now. you evil purveyor of evil.**

**JN: Heck. Motherfudging. Yes. :B**

John emerged from his T-shirt snickering.

Karkat had figured out the lower body stuff with ease, none of that pants-on-head silliness, but he was still shirtless. Huh. Okay, what was it with that T-shirt that had the alien staring at it like his eyes were about to shoot lasers and burn a hole through it? (And what _were _those white lines on his skin? So strange. Birthmarks?)

"Don't like the logo? Sorry, Dave got it on just about everything I own. He's a funny little guy, though! Look, he's grinning."

Karkat's eyes slid sideway to John's own chest. John scratched at his stomach, just under the green ghost slime. The alien's expression was... uh. Really hard to read. But weird.

"... What?"

The alien closed his eyes and quickly yanked the t-shirt on. His claws stayed hooked in the bottom, kneading away.

"Karkat?" A low hiss between clenched teeth was his only answer. No eye contact. Argh. Aliens were weird! So frustrating. John breathed out and told himself he'd be more patient once he had some breakfast. "Okay, never mind! Come on."

A quick detour by the bedroom to get shoes and he was guiding his gray duckling back to the staircase and down to the common room. The TV wasn't on; Rose and Jade were sitting at the big table, Jake leaning his hip on the counter that separated the kitchen corner and chattering at Jane, who... urgh, he could almost smell the devil cake-mix from here.

"Hey guys! Morning."

Jade turned to look at them, and bounced on her feet. "Hi!"

"Yeah, hi, Ja-"

Jade waved him off with a teasing flick of the hand. "I'm not talking to you, I'm talking to the alien. I'm Jade! Jay-duh. You?"

Karkat blinked. "Zhey-duh?" A frown. "... Zehk, Zhann, Zedh?"

John couldn't help but laugh. "Yup, and she -" pointing at the kitchen and its inhabitant, "is Jane. Jay-nuh."

" Zehk, Zedh, Zenn, Zhann?" A low, long muttering started up, probably about what the heck were those names about seriously one consonant's difference what. Jade snickered behind her hand.

"Wow, Roxy was right, he does get ranty." She took a step forward and waved her fingers to get his attention. "You? Your name?"

"It's Karkat," John said, but she just went shh without looking at him and put her hand in his face. After a few awkward seconds the alien repeated it for her, all full of weird sounds. She inclined her head and nodded, and then just about twisted her own vocal chords into sailor's knots.

At least that was what would have happened to John's own vocal chords had he attempted it. Jade seemed pretty chill about it.

"Hm, no, that wasn't quite it..." She made another grumble-clicketyclack, exactly the same as the first, only Karkat's eyebrows were relaxing a tiny bit so perhaps not. Who knew? Certainly not John. "Okay," Jade said, "this is going to require some work! But never mind. Sit down? There's food."

Well. Jade was sitting beside Karkat, Rose in front of him, he looked pretty resigned. John wandered to the kitchen, only pausing for a quick shoulder-bump with Jake on his way in. "Miss Egbert! Fancy meeting you here."

His sister rolled her eyes, but smiled, too. "Mister Egbert! Why, a jolly long time no see. How do you do?"

She wasn't in a skirt today, the way she liked to be when she had any downtime. Those were her flight suit pants, skintight, white with the sky blue band on the outside and the padded knees, and it was a fair bet she wore the rest of it under the knit pullover that swallowed her down to mid-thighs. "Huh, weird look."

"New fashion, all the rage these days," Jane threw over her shoulder as she turned back to her pancake mix, a bit fast, a bit tense. John might have been lacking in social graces but...

"... Um. Janey?"

"I was teasing, it isn't industrial mix. All fresh ingredients straight from the market, no preservatives."

"Jane-"

"Not as big as I thought from the pictures," she said airily, without turning around, and John knew she wasn't talking about mix or pancakes or anything but Karkat, perched on the edge of his seat like a squat, hunching stone gargoyle as Jade tried to teach him via copious pantomime to say yes and no. "Go sit down, scram! You too, Jake. Pancakes'll be ready in a minute." And the smile she gave Jake was much too shaky and grateful to be anywhere normal.

... Jake was pretty much standing guard, wasn't he. Not obvious about it, pretty casual, but anyone coming in the kitchen corner would still have to walk past him first, and his feet were set pretty solidly. Not even because he expected trouble from Karkat - he wouldn't have goofed off in the shower if he did - but because it made her feel better.

John should have thought of doing that, too, or at least noticed, only he hadn't, because on one side was his sister, and on the other side was a traumatized gray dude who'd gone on a suicide mission for a friend and failed and then been at the mercy of science guys and the military for over a week, and he couldn't even imagine Karkat hurting her. How was he supposed to protect Jane from him when he wanted to protect them both?

_You keep forgetting the alien is not one of your buddies, John._

Shit. That didn't mean John couldn't want to spare him another round of that pointless, evil bullshit.

"Hello? Anyone in here?"

"-Heh. I'm not feeling like pancakes today, think I'm gonna go with bacon. Move aside and I'll cook up some!"

After a short, reluctant second, she did, and John did too.

* * *

Twenty minutes later breakfast was over and Jade and Jake were taking their turn at gathering the dirty dishes; Dirk, come late and not hungry, was drinking coffee at the counter while the rest of the group sat very civilly at the table. No one had jumped over it to go after anyone's throat or had an inconvenient panic attack, which was obviously a great success.

It was a wonder who was the most tense, Jane or Karkat. Maybe John ought to bring Karkat back to the bedroom for some alone-time; being surrounded on all sides by humans wasn't doing wonders for his blood pressure. (Having her home invaded by alien space monster wasn't helping Jane's either.)

He was about to mention it, only Roxy burst in from the door, waving something in the air. "Success!"

She was holding two half-circle _things_ in bright pink. The inside wobbled and shone in a manner strangely reminiscent of jello. Rose smiled in clear satisfaction. "Did you test them?"

"Pretty good fit. They're even adjustable a bit."

"What's that?" John asked, eyebrows scrunching in confusion.

Rose gave him a faint, catlike smirk. "That thing you were told not to worry about."

"The - I thought you were going after the goo! Not - uh, what was it you've done?"

"The scientists have been working to reproduce the neurotransmitter fluid for the last week. Something in the formula must be a bit off, because it keeps turning up as gel instead, but the tele-empathic component works fine."

Roxy took over, leaning over Karkat's lap to show John the inside of the devices. The things looked like pretty wide Alice bands, only there were two parts to the sides that pivoted down, kind of like a mic arm on a headset only much higher. "These flippy bits are supposed to go on your temples. Anyway, so then when we add very simple radio transmitters and other doodads, the neuroelectrical impulses are encoded and transmitted via radio waves and when they get to the other side they get translated back into brain stuff! Wireless mindmeld. Isn't that the _coolest_?"

John couldn't help but laugh. "Okay, yeah, it's pretty cool." He reached for one of the offered headsets (wasn't gonna call them Alice bands!), turning it over in his hands. The inside was damp to the touch, a bit gross. Still not as gross as the original snot bath. "So you just put it on and...?"

"Yup! The range isn't great yet, but this is just our first attempt. Maybe the width of the room."

John flipped the arm thingers on his temples, tugging locks of his hair free and fiddling with the flexible metal until skin contact was established. Ugh, it really did feel like jello in his hair, only it wasn't squelching all over the place in a big great mess. Beside him Roxy was cheerfully arranging Karkat's own mess of hair as he sat with his eyes closed and jaw clenched and breathing deeply through his nose, as if praying for just a little goddamn patience it doesn't even hurt I can deal with _that_ _massive fucking bullshit okay one more second great now another one **why** is she **fondling **my **fucking horns**?_

John burst out laughing. "It works! Hey, Karkat."

A flash of incomprehension, and then Karkat jerked to stare at him.

It was like a tidal wave of gutpunch refusal, backed by horror and furious determination. The next second Karkat's chair was on the floor, the teleband had been flung on the table, and Karkat himself was five steps back and still retreating slowly after his first scramble, fists raised, fangs bared.

John didn't need it to understand the words, but Jade translated anyway. "Um, this one is 'no', this one is also 'no'... 'no, no, no', and I think the rest in between are swear words."

John glanced at the rest of his friends. Jake and Rose were on the wrong side of the table with Jane, though it might be quickly crossed; Roxy and Jade stood beside him, looking a bit nonplussed. Dirk had drained his coffee and put it down on the counter and twisted his wrist just so; the handle of his monofilament blade slipped from his sleeve into his palm smooth as a dream. John pushed himself up on his feet before he could unwind the blade itself.

"Karkat?"

A rattling growl rose from his throat, growing into a full-fledged, fangs-baring snarl. John grimaced a little.

"No, hey, shh, it's fine."

Apparently shushing the alien was a mortal insult of some sort, because a burst of furious words ensued, accompanied by an angry hand gesture that might have pimpslapped John to the ground had he been anywhere close to in range. But he wasn't going to corner him if he didn't have to...

"Fido trying to run away?" Dave drawled from the staircase. John winced. Aw crap.

Karkat flinched around, stared at Dave as he walked down the last steps to the doorway that led outside, planted himself there, and casually brought out his blade.

Bzzzz, unspooled and stiffening with a crackle of electricity.

If he let that go a second longer this would turn into the clusterfuck of the year. John stepped forward, spine straightening, eyebrows furrowed. "Dave, put that down. Karkat, _sit_."

His pointing at the couch behind the alien was hopefully clear enough, in case he'd forgotten the word. John gave him a hard stare, to underline it, and then went back to pay attention to Dave, like he had no reason to even worry about what would happen if Karkat didn't.

"Dave, it's fine, he hasn't hurt anyone. Might have broken the -"

_ohwowsoneatohwowHIJOHN! _

"-Hi Jade. Ow." _Okay it's not broken can you take it off please like right now? kinda busy fretting I MEAN LEADERING here ohgodclusterfuck monofilamentblade it dices it slices it Striderizes auuugh._

_Haha misterbadass allgooeyinside._ And then Jade's inner voice mercifully went off. "It's not broken! _So cool_."

"Yeah, yeah, it's pretty neat - Karkat, I told you to sit."

The alien had stepped back until his legs almost bumped into the couch, and his fighting stance had shifted into something that seemed more of a 'oh shit in which direction do I run now' - his eyes kept jumping from Dave to John - but Dave would get him if he tried to go around him to the staircase, and the windows were all the way back toward the table and the kitchen, and besides they would all take too long to open.

John held his open hand back; "Jade, give me the thing, please." She put it into his hand.

Not even Rose objected to him trying it again, not the smallest 'blahblah traumatism be patient.' John wasn't... he couldn't, anyway, he'd promised them they would get intel in return for their support and he couldn't afford to come across as a pushover to Karkat if he was going to be responsible for him.

"Sit down."

After a few long seconds where John was almost, sickeningly sure he'd have to enforce his order, the alien took a few steps back and lowered himself on the cushions at the far end of the couch. Bright red welled from his clenched left fist.

John took a seat on the other end of the couch in silence, handed over the headset. Karkat took it with forced caution, stared at it for a second, breathed out, slid it back on. On his palm were the blood-smeared imprints of his claws.

_... out of my fucking head, stay out of my fucking head, stay out no I don't want you in here, I'll tear out your lungs and wear them as a hat I don't even care if your attack dog cuts me up in slices to be gently roasted for your fucking alien breakfast stay the fuck out._

_You're bleeding._

_Amazing powers of observation genius gonna go far like that be General one day (forced me last time pushed it hurt you had no right none of you had any right!)_

John winced. "I'm sorry."

_Liar._

Ouch. _... I'm not sorry I looked / needed to know importantmaybe. It hurt you I didn't like **that** felt wrongbadno._

A slap of incredulity/_yeahright pull the other one _hit him in the brain. Behind it was a trace of confusion, _why?_ and nerves because... huh, John thought, because he had his little idea and he hoped rather dearly to be wrong.

_Wasn't looking for personal stuff sorry for that. Just war-relevant stuff, not private, duty as a soldier you know? Yours and mine. Could have been urgent, couldn't afford to wait._

He couldn't help remembering the horror he'd felt seeing that other alien in Karkat's mind, the one buried in tentacles, trapped there like he was slowly getting ... cannibalized alive? something like that. From the way Karkat flinched he could feel the echo.

_Wasn't urgent. (Never urgent again.) So when are you killing me?_

John stared, nonplussed. "Uh?"

_... Public execution rah-rah look at our glorious army and those evilstupidweak things who dare attack us hahasofunny? _A gray alien in chains paraded toward, oh god, was that a ... whipping post? funeral pyre? John could only see the waiting chains and feel the anticipation of a pain reminiscent of the times he'd burned his hand cooking or trying to fix overheated motors, only a hundred times worse. _Rallying the troops? Propaganda?_

"Oh god. _Never._" _Nonononono. Also the population doesn't know we captured you yet, just that your mech is down. Probably never will just for that reason they'd all want your head no way._

_... I'm hidden/state-secret?_

_Pretty much._

_... Nightmare-beastgods from the star-void on a flying, shit-spraying horse. I'm going to spend the rest of my natural life with the interrogation/torture division._

John was torn between laughing at the incongruous curse and wincing. _Nooo, I got you, not handing you back. I'll bite!_

Karkat yanked the headband off his head. John blinked; the alien stared at him, eyes a bit too round, turning in his seat so he'd face John, so John mirrored him, eyebrows furrowed in sheer bafflement.

He pointed at the teleband. "Put that back on," he said, imitating his dad's 'It's Bedtime Yes Really' Voice.

Karkat held out his hand, palm first (huh, the cuts were ringed with crusty blood, but pretty much done bleeding) and pinched the bridge of his nose with his other hand. John frowned a little more and crossed his arms. "I'll wait two minutes, tops."

"John? What's going on?"

John looked at Rose over his shoulder and shrugged his confusion. "Dunno, I think I said something weird. He was asking when we were going to hand him back to the interrogation guys! So I said _never_, that's when. I think he doesn't believe me."

Karkat was muttering to himself again, eyes closed, still rubbing at the bridge of his nose. John folded his leg on the couch and stretched it to nudge Karkat's knee with his toes. Tap tap.

A heaving sigh. Karkat settled the teleband back on. _Fucking disgusting on my horns urgh squelching._

"Pff." _So are they telepathic or something?_

_What?_

_Your (tiny round cutest) horns! Because last time you seemed to hear me way better once the goo got on them._

_Go crawl in a charnel house ditch and die suffocating under the weight of the rotting bodies already. Not cute! and yes of course they aaaaaaaa not answering your questions what next a list of known issues?_

"Bwahaha. Too late."

_... what do you want?_

The 'you' came attached with an impression of John's own face and some almost-words that felt like 'pink-outside bigtoothed tent-making blue alien'. Not you-humans or you-group but definitely you-John. It felt a lot... quieter wasn't quite the right word, because John could perceive it just as well as the rest, but it didn't feel as spread out all over the place. It was all... tight, squeezed into one clear, delimited packet of meaning, with no surrounding brouhaha of background feelings and afterthoughts.

John shrugged. He didn't really expect anything. _You not to die? Or go away inside your head again that crap is very disturbing you know. My friends have questions, we want to know about your people, maybe the war why? Need food, resources, distraction for the populace?_

_For the glory of the empire,_ Karkat retorted straight away, teeth bared in challenge, only there was a discordant echo in the background that said, _for_ - _And stop pushing!_

"Ow!"

"Ow?" Roxy repeated, concerned.

John blinked at Karkat for a couple of seconds, dumbfounded. "Uh, wow. He kinda... slapped me. Inside my head? It doesn't hurt for real, I just wasn't expecting it. Wow." _How'd you do that? Neat._

_... Basic psychic trick, are you brain-damaged?_

_Well sorry can't practice basic psychic tricks we don't have psychics, do you?_

Karkat didn't even need to answer; his utter bafflement at the question was confirmation enough. "Guys, if the goo wasn't enough of a hint, the aliens have psychics! I mean like _people _who can do that stuff, not just by bathing in magic mind-reading snot."

_Thank you so very much for that delightful image urgh. _

John couldn't help but laugh at that, and for a second he could have sworn Karkat sort of maybe wanted to smile back a tiny bit, or at least sigh in a longsuffering, tolerant way. The second he noticed, Karkat noticed it too, and his mind hardened again, all background leakage stopped cold.

_So. Keeping me for intel. Is the merciful act supposed to soften me up? humiliate me into surrendering? What the fuck are you up to? I might get along with shit to spare me pointless pain (not a coward shut up shut up shutup) but I'm not going to betray my people. (didn't even have the fucking decency of threatening me openly fuck you with a rusty spike.)_

_Uh, what. When did I threaten you? I mean no you said I didn't **openly **but I didn't **at all**?... no okay I wanted you to sit the hell down but that's because honestly what the heck you were panicking there was no reason and Dave would have cut you into bite-sized cubes if you rushed him also you can't escape Noir would gloat and grab you back fuck him no._

He'd just send Karkat back to the labs and now that he was awake again they'd probably go right back to poking and prodding and testing possible bio-weapons. John wondered if they'd tried the goo on him, too? (_yes they had of course, tried to force their way in most of them were just garbled voices got nothing but it hurt anyway keeping them out wore him down - easier to go away._)

Karkat's mind voice went weary; his hand clenched on the front of his shirt, claw tips going through the cloth. _Ordering me like I'm broken already (like I'm so weak you didn't even need to break me.)_

_I'm not going to break you! I don't want that to happen to you. Or to anyone! It's not right. _He bit his lip. _I don't think you're a coward. You're alone and you understand nothing of what's going on and you've gotten hurt already, it's scary. I'd be scared too._

Karkat closed his eyes and rubbed at the base of his horns like he was getting a headache. His mind stayed clamped down, blocking his reaction. _... just tell me the terms already._

_Uh. Okay. I'm responsible for you so unless one of my friends takes over for a bit you have to stay with me. You don't have to be close but you do have to be in the same room. Uhh. No leaving the building and absolutely no attacking people, I'm serious about that one it's not going to happen. None of my friendsalliesfamily want to hurt you either, no reason to._

Karkat stared at him, expression blank with incomprehension, even his mind murmuring too quietly for John to untangle the little whispers into anything coherent.

_... War prisoner/intel to take? (Dumbass.)_

"Hey!" _I don't know how it goes in your weird alien ships or on your weird alien planet but here it's not a good reason._

_Hello how are you do you want some tea will you pretty please betray your people for us we have tasty treats? No? Okay then! Don't take me for a fucking rot-brained moron._

"Goddamn it." John slammed his fist down on the back of the couch, making the frame groan even through the padding, and glared. "Do you _want _us to torture you? Is that it? Some kind of fucked-up fetish?"

Karkat hissed back and got into his face, snarling out something so low it made John's bones resonate with it. _Like you didn't hand me off to them before oh lord Grand Squeamish!_

_It was different it was **urgent** you've been here ten days now what the hell kind of current intel do you even still have? You left on a fucking suicide mission anyway who'd have trusted you with it!_

No response, just a swirl of complicated, flickering feeling he didn't have time to name, quicksilver that fled his grasp and wind-fast razor slices of ragehatefight and fearpainno. John sighed and sank back down into the cushions.

_... political thing, I don't know how to explain. We answer to the Earth government but not always, we're strong we protect they owe us._

_... ah. _

Karkat was still listening, frowning at him, not quite meeting his eyes but waiting for more, so John kept going, trying to explain the situation as well as he could.

_Kinda allied-but-separate? Couldn't fight you guys as well too much death but we can and we do and they owe us. _

Karkat made a little grunt of surprise-acknowledgement, mind sparking with a brief mix of "huh" and "aha." John briefly wondered if he wasn't giving him a bit too much intel. ... Oh well, it wasn't as if he'd ever be allowed to go free. Besides they had to have noticed it was always the same eight mechs who came back at them, and their piloting styles were all pretty distinctive.

_Anyway re: torture medical procedures are one thing, sometimes they hurt but it's not the point. Interrogation happens, sometimes it goes too far or turns bad, some humans **do** like to torture, or think it's a necessary method or use it as an excuse to get out their misplaced asshole issues but **torture is a repugnant practice **and so long as you're in our custody it's not going to happen to you and we'll be fighting tooth and nail to keep you and **we all bite really hard**. Okay? Okay._

Sigh. "He still doesn't believe me about the torture thing, guys. Argh. Like... really loudly doesn't believe me." So frustrating! They were telepathing to each other for god's sake, he should have felt John meant it.

_... can't believe you want **nothing **for it._

_My friends will have questions about science things. I don't get it just a fighter. Also your society things how it works and stuff? Maybe language not everyone wants to try the goo. That's not state secrets._

_No - you! What do **you** want? Wasting all those favors on protecting me?_

"AUUUUGH." John grabbed a handful of his hair and pulled. _I like you, stupid! I don't want anything. And protecting you from torture that's not even about me liking you it's about that shit is abhorrent and will not happen on my watch I'd have done it either way!_

(Maybe with less random hugs. Uh. But he just couldn't take that defeated, subdued look in his eyes.)

This time Karkat was very careful when he removed the headset. He lowered it to his lap, staring down at nothing in particular, eyes a little too wide, breathing a little too controlled.

"Uh. Karkat? What did I say now?"

No reaction. John threw a look back at his friends. Dave had a shoulder against the doorframe and his arms crossed and seemed ready to hold up the wall there all day. The rest were at the table, keeping an eye on the two of them, but also doing god knew what on Roxy's laptop. Jane was typing away, a bit too pale but nodding along with Roxy's comments in her ear. Rose was petting Jasper, who sniffed at the table where Karkat had been seated in wary interest. John supposed it had to be boring from the outside, apart from the random grimaces and the occasional outburst.

Jade noticed his mildly panicked expression and got up, wandering up to them. She didn't come in reach of the couch, though, didn't sit, hands linked behind her back as she leaned forward to peer at both their faces. Karkat didn't react to her either.

"What _did _you say?"

"That even if I didn't like him I wouldn't let people hurt him? And I _do _like him. I mean, he's so grumpy, but at the same time he's, I don't know." He looked at Karkat again, but the alien didn't look any closer to putting his headset back on. John looked up at Jade, met her little wince with a frustrated grimace. "The way he reacted you'd think it was a surprise!"

"I call dibs on head bridesmaid," Dave drawled from the door.

"Oh, fuck you."

"Do you even still count as a maid?" Dirk wondered.

"Lies and slander, Jade will make a honest woman out of me any day now."

Jade snickered; John couldn't help but join her. "As if! Everyone knows I was only using you for your body."

(Man it was such a relief that they could joke about it now, because during and for a few months after the breakup, wowza.)

When he looked back at Karkat, a smile still on his lips, he was met with red-gold straight on. Karkat's face was intensely serious and slightly apprehensive, like he had something to say that he was pretty sure John wouldn't like, and might react badly to. John sighed and leaned his body forward, tilted his head, made sure his voice wasn't aggressive or loud at all. "Buddy? It's okay." He rested his hand on the alien's shoulder, patting in what he hoped was a soothing manner.

Karkat flinched, dodged out from under his hand, and took a deep bracing breath before he jammed the headset back on.

_I have a boyfriend already, okay?_

For a few long seconds John could do nothing but splutter. Also, turn a pretty nice brick red. Holy mother of fuck.

"W-what? Why the hell - what? You - _what?_"

Karkat bit his lip and briefly looked away, and when he looked back he - his inner voice, his face, they were _so earnest _it made John's brain explode in horror and stall for the third time in as many minutes. _I'm sorry seriously but you've got to stop doing that soothing shit, I'm not cheating on him, I love that stupid wreck. I don't care if I'll never see him again, he... fuck. _Karkat flinched, a burst of pain flashing past his tight grip on his background thoughts. _(I'll never see him again sosorry I'm a fucking asshole should just go and die-) _

This time John was the one taking off the headset for a bit. Holy crappalooza.

"... And in this exhibit we have the amazing human chameleon, attempting to match that cushion over there... Hm, not quite scarlet enough, but a pretty good try."

John gritted his teeth and refused to turn to look at him, voice coming out a growl. "Dave, I will kick you in the knee."

He jammed the headset back on. _Okay, **NO**. I am not interested in you romantically! No way, no how, where the heck did you get that idea from?_

Karkat spluttered, threw a hand up in the air to gesture with as he snarled back. _Shall I count the ways? You kidnapped me back! You built me an alien pillowthing! You guarded me as I slept! You keep calming me and hugging me and oh yeah wasting all your owed favors on me! You saw me being weak and hurt and a total wreck and you - immediately you - you decided I could do with your all-benevolent protection? We were fighting a moment ago!_

Now it was apparently John's turn to splutter. _Basic decency is suspicious now? Is platonic not a thing where you crazyaliens come from?_

Oh hey they were both on their feet now, mind-yelling in each other's face. John had a hard time not yelling for real, had to content himself with curled-up lips and wordless noises of frustration, but he'd probably die if his friends got to hear what this was about. God, Dave alone could milk this for ten years; what Dirk and Rose could do with it didn't bear thinking about.

_I have absolutely no, zero, null, void-of-space romantic designs on you!_

_... Okay, sure! It wasn't like **that**. Willing to believe such intense denial - loud + wordy = true!_

John growled and crossed his arms. **_Thank _**_you_.

_You were staring at my crotch._

Spittake. _That was just morbid curiosity! Come on you looked too I'm weird to you you're weird to me that's all!_

Karkat watched him with his eyes narrowed, blistering disbelief plastered on every single square inch of his face. _You made me lay down with you on a -_

Oh holy mother of god. John went meep and took a step back. The heat that had started to leave his face rushed back with a vengeance, even his eyeballs felt too hot. Holy shit. Just, holy _shit_.

"Okay, enough mystery, what the fuck are the two of you talking about?"

"Yeah, seriously," Roxy said, "it was funny dubbing the two of you but now I think it'd be waaay funnier to know what's actually going on!"

"... Haha. Um. Neat factoid for the xenosocio magazines, guys! Aliens don't sleep on beds. Turns out what we call a bed they call, um, a." Gulp. "Sex platform?"

_We **sleep **on them! _he hurried to explain. _It's just for sleep! We don't, they're not just for sex!_

_... Huh. _Squinty, suspicious frown. _Not **just** for sex?_

"Oh, _really_," went Rose somewhere behind him, in a way that had John flinching again.

_... Okay sometimes people have sex on them it's very practicalcomfynice I guess but I just, sometimes people share? To sleep? Platonically?_

"Welp. Rox, you've got the shotgun, you get to be in that wedding party after all. Someone's got to stand in for his alien dad."

"... Am I to understand that John and the alien shared his bed yesterday night?"

Jake smothered a burst of laughter behind his hand, eyes gleaming with warring commiseration and hilarity. "They sure did. Oh darn, does that mean you're alien married now?"

Amidst all the people laughing at his pain and the people bemoaning his amazing ability to create diplomatic incidents out of thin air, John wasn't expecting to be slapped over the head, hard enough to make him pitch forward. He turned around to protest. "Hey-"

His sister stood there and not at the other end of the room anymore, hands shaking, jaw clenched, eyes a bit too bright.

"Uh. Janey?"

"... You made him share your bed."

"I didn't know it was a weird alien thing!" he protested. Jane threw up her hands in the air.

"_You knew he was worried about rape!_ What the hell were you thinking?"

John flinched again, guilt choking him, replacing his embarrassment with something worse. "I wasn't, okay? I wasn't thinking, I was just tired and I didn't want to sleep on the floor and it was more than wide enough for two and he-" _looked scared (looked interesting) and it was John's stupid bed drat it such silly unfounded fears as if he could ever (why don't you trust me already) _"- and I, I wasn't thinking, it was an asshole move. You're right. Shit."

Jane took in a shuddery breath, eyes closed, and then looked over John's shoulder at Karkat, straight on, pretty much for the first time. "...John? Translate for me."

"Uh, sure." When he turned back to Karkat, the alien was staring at the two of them, eyebrows raised, eyes wide, pretty much floored. Aw crap, no doubt he'd been treated to a front seat concert of that whole mess at full volume.

"Alrighty! My brother is an idiot."

"Hey!" Glower. He wilted. _She says, my brother is an idiot._

For a fleeting moment it looked almost as if Karkat was about to crack a smile. _Tell her I was starting to get that impression._

_... I kinda hate you sometimes._

Aaand this was a... not a smile, definitely a smirk. Made a couple of small fangs peek out at the quirked corner of his lips. _Stop flirting and translate already._

"Ngrhk." John glared, face reddening once again. "His Majesty Karkitty tells me to tell you he was getting that impression already gnagnagna."

Jane's lips twitched a bit at the corner. "Well. He does seem to be a smart young man."

John huffed, puffing up his cheeks. "If you like him so much why don't you marry him already," he mumbled.

"Jolly good job not sounding like a kindergartener here!"

Maturely, John decided that the best answer to this had to be sticking out his tongue and going bleeeeeh. Jane ignored him pointedly.

"So... If your - your species does not sleep on, ah, cushioned surfaces, where does it?"

John re-thought it for Karkat's benefit, in case overhearing John hearing it wasn't enough, and then tacked on, _I, uh, take it you don't want to keep sleeping in my bed. Even if I'm on the floor._

The grimace Karkat made had him choke back a guilty laugh, only for that laugh to escape anyway as the alien threw an image at him, of a wide mattress in a dim-lit room and Karkat rolled in a ball in the middle with an apprehensive, vaguely disgusted look on his face as music started slipping in from the corners. "Pff. Aliens have porn music too!"

_In which a reluctant young warrior is held captive by an oddly charismatic alien leader who sets about seducing him via utter decadence and inappropriate touching, features several love-to-hate-and-back scenes of passion, interspersed with slapstick language-barrier humor and random assaults by evil, nonsexy aliens, while the war slowly becomes a footnote amidst enough intercourse to chafe a professional whore raw. _Karkat's chuckle was rough, quiet, both sarcastic and self-conscious somehow. _So... no thanks very flattered go fuck yourself._

John couldn't breathe for laughing, though his face kept burning from imagining himself dressed like a pseudo-sultan from some old harem-themed softcore porn story. _You asshole. Sowrong. Sooowrong. Anyways so where do you want to sleep!_

Relief and disbelief kept roiling behind the sudden amusement, dizzying._ I want anywhere but a sexplatformbed thanks kindly. Stake-lined animal pit? Bird perch? Lava bath?_

Pfffhahahaha.

"I take it the wedding is back on track?"

"Oh, fuck you, Dave," John replied with a wide grin. "You're just jealous. I'd look so much better in white than you ever would. You'd be all washed out and also it'd totally be false advertising anyway."

"Ahem. John. If you please."

"Okay, okay." John went back to Karkat, who shrugged and looked away, scratching the underside of his jaw.

_I'll make_, something, John didn't quite get it, but he got the sense that Karkat would rather figure it out alone, that it made him feel awkward to ask it out of them. He shrugged and turned back to his sister, waiting with her hands on her hips and an eyebrow smartly arched. "He says he can manage on his own and please to be butting out." _It'll have to be in our room though._

A dismissive shrug, though Karkat was frowning a little like he wasn't entirely comfortable about it.

_We can make a tent around it if you-_

_We nothing, butt out already you freakish bigtoothed nosy asshole. I alone._

Faint tension still came through even with Karkat's decisive words, nervousness. John didn't need to be thwapped by Jane again to get that one. He shrugged and replied, _okay, if you insist. Offer's open._

_Yeah. I... thanks. _He sank back down on the couch, elbows dropping on his knees with a big gusty sigh, tension gradually flowing out of his frame._ It's just weird. You say you're not flirting but you do that stuff. It's... not flirting for you?_

John mock-cringed and flopped beside him, cushions bouncing under them both. _Ohgod definitely not._

Karkat contemplated that for a couple of seconds, and then gave a slow headshake. _... Aliens are so fucking weird._

_Man, tell me about it._

"Well. If you two are friends again."

John blinked up. Oh uh, Jane. Right. "You wanna sit down, Janey?"

She shook her head. She looked a tiny bit calmer than she'd been, but the way she watched Karkat was still cautious, alert, tracking his every little gesture. It'd probably take her way longer than that to relax around him. John couldn't help the warm, bittersweet burst of tenderness at how brave she'd been, coming to defend Karkat from his asshole moment even feeling like that, just because it was the right thing to do. Dad would be super extra proud, he was sure.

"No, thank you. I'll, perhaps Rose could come and talk with the two of you, I'll take notes. Rose?"

"Of course," Rose replied, and as Jane made a controlled, straight-backed escape, came over to join them in the TV corner, her cat in her arms. Karkat's eyes almost crossed from staring at him. Rose's lips quirked at the corner; she seated herself on a pillow on the coffee table, knees pressed together very properly. "I'm curious, do you understand what we say through John's own understanding of our words, or does he need to repeat?"

Karkat's brow furrowed.

"Oh, uh, I think I have to pay a bit more attention than that, sorry." Jasper was purring and kneading at her lap; John reached out to give him a scritch.

_I... understand a bit? It's more vague. General sense of things._

"Huh, makes sense. He kinda gets echoes, I think."

"Hm." Karkat was still stealing glances at the cat; she smiled. "This is Jasper. Do your people keep pets?"

From the confusion he answered with when John passed it along, the answer was obviously no. "I don't think he even has a concept of it. Do you guys even have domesticated animals?"

_... Draft beasts to pull, or ride. Big beasts. Sometimes hunting ones to track with. What does this one do?_

"Uh, nothing, it's a pet. Er, Rose?"

"A pet is a small, tamed animal that lives inside a person's house. It does not work for its keep as it is kept purely for the pleasure of its company."

Heh, sounded kind of a bit like-

_... John if you are keeping me as a pet I will pull out your intestines through your nostrils and make you a noose from them and swing you from the lamp and I will take the greatest care to make sure you stay alive every tortuous inch of this process._

John cracked up. "What? No! No no no."

"... times like these," Dave muttered from his corner, "I kind of wish this were three ways. But then I remember, alien in my brain. Nope!"

John snickered at him and turned back to Karkat. _Good thing you can't speak to Dave he'd never stop bringing it up. He'd get you fake kitty ears and a collar with a bell. _It'd be ridiculous. He couldn't help imagining Karkat tearing around the room in a rage, shredding everything with his claws like Mutie'd done a couple of times.

Karkat stared at him in suspicion and a burst of nerves, and then before John could reassure him that he was just kidding around, rolled his eyes. _If you put a collar on me it'd be your goddamn floppy dick I tear to shreds, asshole._

John grinned back at him. _No worries, way too kinky for me._

"John, if you would please stop cutting me out of the conversation before I drop Jasper on your head."

"Whoops. Sorry Rose. It's just so much fun being able to talk to him. He's so grumpy, it's hilarious."

Karkat growled under his breath and glowered at him. An image of the alien kicking his ankle ghosted through John's mind, a sense of _intent_, only to be replaced by a flash of seven other humans descending from above with swords in hand and transforming him into a pincushion. _She wanted to talk let her talk stop being the high king of idiots, lord protector of stupidland, all hail his unmatched dearth of brainmeat._

A strange expression crossed Rose's face but John was laughing too much to ask straight away and when he was done she looked perfectly normal. Huh, never mind. "_John._ Don't make me hit you. Karkat - as John might or might not have mentioned, there are questions we would be thankful to have answered."

_But John says no torture you can't make me. _A niggling doubt that John was just lying to him. John hesitated to answer it. In the end he didn't, merely paraphrased for Rose, "He doesn't want to and you can't make him."

"We can provide other incentive. If nothing else you'll eventually get quite bored, being locked in here. And - John, transmit this. No anger, no protest, just transmit it. We are in a delicate political situation and we might be pressured into giving you up." John glowered, but repeated, though the words took on a harsh undertone from his own frustrated denial. "The situation becomes easier if we have tidbits to appease people with, especially since your previous custodians were, after a certain time, able to extract precisely jack shit."

Bitter pride flickered at that. He _had _stonewalled them pretty good, huh. Couldn't stop scientists from canvassing his body inch by inch with their cold fingers and colder machines but could sure shred the mind of any fool who tried to follow him in too deep, wasn't going to be hurt twice and they were so garbled anyway, so graceless, he learned more than they did. Even if so much of it was fucking useless, incomprehensibly alien.

John's eyes prickled with something he didn't want to think too hard about, lest Karkat hiss at him for caring too much again.

"For now we are mostly interested in basic biology, as some of your organs don't seem to have analogous functions to human ones, and language."

_So you can spy on our transmissions?_

"If there is anything to be said on open transmissions one would hope they would be encrypted."

_... Point, I guess,_ Karkat grumbled, but glared at John sullenly when he relayed that to Rose.

"Later, as we build more trust, perhaps you will feel willing to offer advice as to the best ways to work repairs on your mech, as biotechnology isn't-"

Karkat had been pretty subdued around Rose, comparatively; John noticed that because suddenly he was up on his feet and leaning forward so fast the cat startled and scampered off. The link was burning with _what?_, with _needtoknow,_ with _please_, with the hulking nightmare shape of pincers and mandibles and two too many arms-

"Oh god," John choked out, caught unable to breathe in Karkat's own breathless terror-hope. "Rose, he's. He's asking if it's still alive."

And as behind her Dirk and Dave and Roxy slowly lowered their blades and guns Rose herself didn't move an inch, not even to lean away from the crazy-eyed alien quivering with tension in her face, only to smile, slow and satisfied. "Well then, here is our first bit of incentive. I knew we would find something."


	5. Chapter 5

Better pesterlog formatting on AO3. Also FFnet tends to eat some of my bunched up words. This is very frustrating. If a sentence is too weird, this may be why.

* * *

**Chapter 5**

The boys' bedroom wasn't really big. Two bunk beds, a desk under the window opposite the door, cupboards full of civilian clothes and shoes, and traveling cases under the lower bunks filled with odds and ends they hadn't touched in months. It was a room mostly for sleeping in, since their staggered schedules didn't allow for much lingering; their other, more prized possessions and random time-wasters tended to be strewn all over the common room, where they could actually use them without waking anyone up.

John wasn't used to watching the room from the floor, but sitting on his bed just made him feel weird knowing Karkat interpreted it as him lounging on a pimp throne, hos optional but expected any minute now.

The alien shuffled past on his knees, brows furrowed in concentration as he carried Jake's old loafers to the far corner, ignoring the human as hard as he possibly could.

Rose had, like a queen of perfect evil, generously decided that the poor shaken alien shouldn't be taken advantage of in his first moment of panic, but instead given some time to settle down and think things through rationally. By that, she mostly meant "let him stew in his fretty juices until he is cooked all the way through and ready to melt under my teeth."

She'd taken back the headsets, too. Something about installing on-off switches, serious design flaw blahblah. John couldn't talk with Karkat, and trying to help him with whatever he was doing in that narrow corner between the foot of the bed and the wall only got him hissing and bared teeth.

"I am _so bored_."

Karkat's head briefly popped up over the footboard, just long enough to give him a narrow-eyed, suspicious look, and then he disappeared again, muttering under his breath something John would have bet his firstborn was _'for the nth time, __**I can't understand you**__, dipshit'_.

(If he'd been planning to have a firstborn, or any bio kids at all, he totally would have bet them, anyways. Maybe it was cheating to bet them since he wasn't? Hmm, maybe he could bet Warhammer's - no, hahaha, heck no, no betting his mech's _anything_.)

"Wish I'd thought to take my handheld. Can't play games on glasses. This sucks."

Oh hey, his glasses. He tapped the frame and glanced his way through his contact list. Today everyone was online, though some were on Away or Do Not Disturb; everyone was apparently awake at the same time. How weird. How full of potential fun!

How not fun at all in practice. Somehow.

**JH: oh my god i am so bored. soooo bored. i have maxed out all levels of boredom that exist on this plane of existence and ascended to a new realm full of even more boring crap _auuuugh someone please save me_.**

He watched Karkat poke at the tissue box that everyone pretended was on the desk in case of sudden colds and was glad when the alien put it back where he'd found it, apparently unimpressed by how crumply it was. Karkat had been given leave to use everything that wasn't on a bed or locked away, but explaining why that one was public property and not to be absconded with would have been awkward.

**JD: ummm sorry john! we cant come and visit you :(**

**JH: who's we?**

**JD: jake and janey and me. were going on an adventure! were on the boat to temple island atm. eta in four minutes! :D its going to be so much fun, i havent been there since i was like twelve or something**

**JH: wow guys, thanks for waiting until i can't come with. :/ i'm feeling the clonesib love there.**

**JN: Sorry, John! Those two reprobates kidnapped me; by the time I blinked we were already at the beach. I was TRYING to do a write-up on all those fascinating little facts we learned today! Honestly, Mr. Harley, Miss Harley.**

**JD: wed say were sorry but wed be lying like lying liars who lie lyingly ;3**

**JD: whoops theres the harbor! tricky reefs ahead. see you later john, have fun with karkat!**

... Damn it. A nice end of spring day, everyone awake together, everyone _dirtside_ together, no enemies in view for _at least _another twenty hours - it should have been a vacation. They should have gone to the mainland and into a real city, watched a movie on a real big screen, or maybe Dad could have taken him and Jane and gone back home for the weekend - they hadn't found an occasion to do that in... wow, a year and eight months now. John wasn't sure why Dad hadn't given up and sold the house by now.

**RX: lolol aw poor jonnyhboy**

**RX: all on his loensom w/ blushy alien brid,e & sexingup platnrom^ hubba hubba**

**JH: alas he is refusing to put out.**

**RX: *lonesome **platfrom**

**RX: hahaahh. ur goin to fast! u need 2 SEDUCE him!**

**RX: *sexxy music strats playn SEXILY in the backgourdn***

**RX: they totes have that right? u said they did. u recognized it as pr0n music too so it must be prty smililar**

**JH: uh yeah, i guess it kind of was...**

**RX: u gotta tell me aaalllll about how taht came up btw. AAALALLLLLL abotu it.**

**RX: liek did u get 2 actuely SEE a bit of alien pr0n ? :33**

**JH: ... oh hey will you look at what Karkat is building. pretty amazing how he managed to pile it up so high! it's never going to stay up! gotta save him before it all falls on his head brb.**

Karkat's construction hadn't even reached the footboard yet, of course. Hehe. Um. John stretched his upper body across the end corner of the mattress, toes and one knee still on the floor, and looked over it, deciding that getting clawed across the face for satisfying his curiosity sounded vaguely preferable to keeping on thinking about Roxy's line of questioning and how likely she was to ask again later on.

It looked like a pile of random junk. Actually it looked pretty much like the pile of random junk that used to be there until about two months ago, when Dad noticed something was getting smelly in there - more than normal eau de boy's room, that was - and made them clean it all up. They apparently shouldn't have bothered?

"Zhann. _Zhann_. No."

John blinked and grinned charmingly at Karkat, who sat on his legs by the bedpost and glowered at him, hands wrist-deep in the pile, and refusing to be charmed. "You pronounce that one pretty well. Okay it's really short, but still!"

Irritated huff, blowing bangs out of his eyes to glower at him some more. The red eyes worked strikingly well for that. "Zhann. You. N'rhlekhss thalneish! _No_."

"Aw, come on-"

Karkat was apparently at the end of his patience for nosy humans, because he planted his hand in John's face and shoved him back. John was draped awkwardly over the corner of the bed; he couldn't catch a grip and ended up back on the floor, landing butt-first with a dull thud and half the sheets pulled down with.

For a second they both froze, John utterly startled and Karkat eyes wide and suddenly apprehensive, like only now after the fact was he wondering if he'd gone too far.

He had a cobweb in his hair and a plush banana in hand. John raised his hand to rub his smarting nose, and then started laughing. Karkat deflated with a heavy sigh, shook his head at a slightly different angle from everyone else but in a way that still meant 'I despair of this guy, I really do'.

Then he went back to inserting his banana in construction holes, which had John pfffhahahing again. It only got John a quick, 'let's avoid staring straight at the crazy person in case it provokes them lalala nothing to see here' glance, though. Boo. John threw the sheets in a rumpled mess on the mattress and flopped back against the side of the bed. Time to be bored again - oh wait, another message alert! Whee.

**BR: Fifty pushups.**

**JH: what?**

**BR: Cure for boredom. Guaranteed or your money back.**

**JH: oh come on mr. strider, you're kidding right?**

**BR: I never kid. Romy removed my humor gland as a lark in med school. Humor-free ever since.**

**BR: And twenty crunches. Chop chop.**

**JH: ... aye, aye, sir. fifty pushups and twenty crunches and one alien looking at me like i'm deranged coming right up.**

**BR: I'll know if you skip them.**

**BR: I always know.**

**BR: Always.**

The worst thing was he did, in fact, always know. John heaved a sigh and rolled onto hands and knees. One pushup. Karkat paused to stare at him. Two pushups. He didn't even want to know what the alien thought he was doing, and why he was doing it now. Some strange of bizarre religious penance? Compulsive behavior?

"Not my fault!" Four pushups. "Strider said." Five. Six. Karkat was still staring. John grimaced at him. Seven.

With his luck he was doing some kind of alien mating display.

He was on his thirty-fourth pushup and Karkat had long since gone back to his arcane construction, frowning at it like it was an atmo reentry equation that refused to give any kind of reasonable, non-crash-landing results, when the bedroom door opened. John craned his neck to look at the newcomer. He was already sure it wasn't Dave, though, on account of the lack of foot planting itself between his shoulder blades to flatten him back down.

"Hey," Dirk said, and casually stepped over his legs. "Going on a test flight. How's the alien bed going?"

"Not a clue," thirty-six, "won't let me look!"

Karkat, of course, didn't hiss at Dirk to step back when Dirk looked over his head, just hunkered down a bit and watched him warily. John was kind of jealous. Not of the hunkering, but... oh, he supposed he'd rather have Karkat not being afraid than getting to see the stupid mess back there.

"I think he," thirty-nine, "doesn't have - enough shit." Forty-one. "Room's too clean! Hehe."

Dirk hummed thoughtfully and hooked the handle of his suitcase with his toes, pulling it out from under the bed. He swung it up on his mattress, casual and unconcerned, and proceeded to rummage it into a total mess. A book glanced off John's head, landed on the floor. John glowered at it. "Hey! - goddamn it - lost my count. Uh. Forty-seven." Oh god almost done.

Karkat was still staring at them from under his fringe, eyes sharp, not missing a single thing. John hoped he didn't have Jane's habit of actually writing down his observations. Else there'd be a "The Exceedingly Strange Habits of the Earthian Homo pilotus" on alien shelves pretty soon.

Then again Karkat was probably never going to leave this planet again. Uh. Yeah. John was a little glad when he reached fifty-one (crap, he'd done one too many) and switched exercises. Gave him an excuse to change angles, stop seeing his face.

Now he could watch Dirk negligently dropping his crap on the floor as he looked for... whatever it was he wanted.

Karkat got it before him, a blink and his back straightening suddenly, all 'oh, got it!' He cautiously stretched a hand toward that first book. Stretch, streeetch... a quick, wary glance at Dirk... Dirk was pretending not to notice, so Karkat ganked the book. His permanent frown had relaxed a little bit. The next time he went back for a laptop screen (where was the rest of it?) he wasn't half as wary that Dirk might turn around and kick him, and the third time he didn't even act cautious at all. Dirk kept dumping plastic ponies and old data sticks and robot parts here and there.

"How come you get to help him and I don't!" John eventually protested.

"Helping him? He's helping himself. I'm not doing shit."

Hrrrrn.

"Oh, that's right, my shirts are in the cupboard, not the suitcase. Silly of me." As he turned away, he dumped the empty suitcase on the floor. It stayed there approximately six seconds, after which Karkat disappeared it. The alien was smiling for real now, a tiny one, just to himself.

_Hrrrghn_.

The next ten crunches went by really fast for some reason.

"Anyways. Might not be back for dinner. It depends on how the test goes." Dirk perched on the edge of his bed, watching John finish his set. "I'll do my recalibrating at Tycho Base if I need any."

John snorted, flicking him a grin. "In other words... you'll do your recalibrating at Tycho Base." There was no way on Earth there wouldn't be at the very least _one _piddly little thing that Dirk would need to obsess over. Which meant he was guaranteed to crash the moon base party. "Which day is it again? Ooh, vegetable lasagna day. Lucky you!" Space Marines had the _best _canteen. If by 'best' you meant 'most likely to achieve sentience and turn on their human overlords', that was.

Dirk pinched his lips in that way that meant he wanted to smile back but was too cool for it. "What do you think the extra box of pears by the fridge is for?"

"I thought it was to bribe their engineers into giving you priority repairs."

"No, that's the strawberries. Pears are for trading for the greasiest fast-food they have stashed away."

John laughed as he sat up, let his hands hang between his knees. He wasn't tired, barely warmed up really. "I'm so jealous. A pox on Dad and his healthy meals!"

Dirk extracted himself from his bunk by way of hooking one hand into Dave's bunk's guardrail and reverse-curling himself upward in a boneless, snakelike wave that started from the knee. All 'look at my abs! _I _do a hundred crunches a day!' Feh.

"Alright, time to go." He nodded to John, and then to Karkat. Karkat quickly looked away and pretended to have been busy with his mess of a bed all along. "John. Karkat. Later."

A minimalist wave of his hand, and he was gone. John let his own hand drop. Karkat was still looking at the door in mild confusion. John shuffled his butt along the floor closer to him. He wasn't distracting him from his business if Karkat had stopped on his own, right? "What is it, pal?"

Karkat's eyebrows scrunched together, more in puzzlement than in get-out-of-my-face. He repeated, articulating a bit too much, "Lay-tuh?"

"Lay-_turrrr_. Uh, okay, how to explain that."

John considered the issue for a second. He wasn't as good at it as Jade. She'd managed to teach him yes, no, water, food/hungry, and a couple other things, all without the telepathic headband, and John had little clue how she'd managed. ('Come on/come with me' and 'sit' he got, too, but they were mostly because everyone'd been telling him all day long)

He propped up his hands on their index and middle fingers, made them walk toward each other. "Hello!" Lefty said to Righty with a little bob that might look like a polite nod (bit hard to be clearer when their heads were his wrists! They weren't _that _bendy.) "Hi," said Righty. They proceeded to babble about random crap for a couple seconds.

Karkat was staring at him and at his hands alternately, face torn between 'okay, so far I get it, I think' and '_why_ do I _know _you.' John grinned with all his teeth and made Lefty shuffle closer. "Hel-_lo_, nurse," that little scamp purred, thumb getting fresh with Righty's knuckles. Karkat growled at him.

"Hehehe. Sorry, sorry." Alright, back into character. "Goodbye, Lefty." Righty walked off. John flapped his hand a bit to signify she was gone for good, or she'd flown off on a stiff wind or whatever, and then he reset the scene. "Hi! _Hello_. Blahblahblah! _Blahblah too_. Yes! _No. _Later." He decided not to editorialize about Lefty being a buttface, and Righty's 'later' meaning 'see you in hell', and made Righty wander off for a little trip a bit too close to the edges of Karkat's pile of crap (he wasn't sneaking a look! no need to look so suspicious!) before wandering back. "Hello again!"

Then they knuckle-smooched. Okay, not really. He didn't want to confuse Karkat that 'later' meant 'I will ravish you next time'. It would have been funny, though.

"Hrrm. Aghain?"

"Punch." John demonstrated a slow-mo punch, aimed carefully away from the alien. "Punch again." He punched again. "Again." A third one. "Again. Okay, you get it now."

"Later... hello again?"

"Uh. I guess. Yeah." Except when it was used with its actual meaning instead of by colloquial lazy guys. Teaching was hard!

Karkat made a hummy thinking noise, slowly shuffling his weight so he wasn't sitting on his feet anymore but cross-legged, hands resting loose on his ankles, facing John. They stared at each other for a couple of seconds. Looked like Karkat felt like talking to him now, only John still didn't have the headset and Karkat didn't have enough vocabulary.

The hollows under his eyes were so dark. John wondered if, as in humans, it indicated exhaustion, because if that were the case he must be about to fall over. Made his eyes pop out, though. All gray, gray, darker gray - bam! Buttercup/fire truck combo.

"...Let's get started on colors!" He pulled the bottom of his shirt and pointed at it. "White!" Next was the ceiling. "White too." He pointed at his bed sheets. Karkat's ears reddened and he glanced quickly away. Um. "... Also white."

"...White?" The alien pointed at the pages of a notebook. John nodded. He got it quick!

They went through black and purple and pink thanks to one of Dirk's ponies. Karkat hesitated for a second next and then pointed at his own eyes.

"Uh." John leaned a little closer, though he could see them fine from there. He pointed to his own iris, made a little circle. "Red?" A bigger circle. "Yellow."

Karkat nodded slowly, repeating the words under his breath - he didn't like it when John chuckled over his pronunciation, but John couldn't help it! - and then cautiously pointed at John's own eyes. "Whi-tuh...?"

"And blue."

His permanent frown deepened, though, when the dark jeans he wore turned out to also be blue, and Jake's pillowcase, which was, granted, paler and vaguely sea-colored. "Okay, not blue. I guess... Blue-green? And this is green." Jake's bed sheets were very green. Foresty, really. So were the matching radioactive slime ghosts on John and Karkat's chests. John tapped his own with a smile; Karkat's face went weird in a way he couldn't read and then he was turning back to his pile without another word.

"Uh. Karkat? More colors?"

"... No. Later, Zhann."

Okay, okay, what had just happened. John went on hands and knees and shuffled closer, tilting his head to peer at the alien's face. "Aw, but-"

"No!" Karkat snarled at him, and disappeared in his corner between the footboard and the walls. The suitcase, opened into a L, was slammed like a wall between the pile and the rest of the room.

John could have climbed on his bed and peered in from above, but he had a feeling Karkat might scratch his eyes out if he tried it. Okay, the heck. Seriously, the heck.

He sat back down on the floor slowly, baffled and maybe a little hurt. Karkat shuffled around in there for a little bit, likely trying to make himself comfortable on all that pointy, bumpy crap, but in a quiet way, like he wanted to pretend he wasn't here and John couldn't find him. After that, silence.

**JH: rose? are you still busy?**

**RS: As it happens, not anymore. I am returning home and will be there shortly. **

**JH: oh cool.**

**JH: uh, listen. i think i pissed off karkat, but i really don't get why! i was showing him the colors and he was pretty okay about it and then suddenly bam he's crawling in his hidey hole and growling at me to back off. i don't get it!**

**RS: Interesting. Which color was it?**

**JH: uh, green i think. bright green, he was okay with forest green. i really don't get it!**

**RS: There, there. Pretend I've patted you.**

**JH: you're the best pseudo-patter ever, rose, it is you.**

**RS: But of course.  
RS: He's an alien, John, he is bound to exhibit strange idiosyncrasies from time to time. I wouldn't be worried. He'll realize you didn't mean any harm and cut you some slack for your own alienness in a minute, and then you shall be BFFsies 4ever again.**

**JH: that sure sounded like sarcasm there. are you sarcasming at me, miss lalonde?**

**RS: I would *never*.**

Heh. Yeah right.

**RS: But that is neither here nor there. Will your guest be willing to emerge and meet me downstairs in ... three minutes, now?**

**JH: uh. no idea, i'll try. why?**

**RS: I've managed to arrange a little school trip, if he is still interested.**

- Oh. Oh man.

John bit his lip. He wished he'd taught him the word for mech now, it was of such importance in both their lives and instead Jade had taught him fork and knife and John had taught him purple and sit, and right now that sounded like the silliest, most pointless thing. (That surge of grief-hope-guilt, oh god. Why did Karkat have to feel everything so violently, John couldn't get it out of his head.)

"Uh. Karkat?" No response. "Karkat, come on."

"_Hrrrrrrrsst_."

Man. If he went to the barricade he might get clawed up for real, wow. But how to - oh, loose paper, a pencil. He scribbled a quick caricature of Karkat's monster-mech, pincer-hands and grasping-hands and mandibles and all, added three smaller stick figures beholding it, one of them with little horns and a mouth full of zigzags and another with a triangle skirt and chest coconuts.

Totally art. Dave would be jealous. He folded it into a paper airplane and used some of those expensive mathematics of aerodynamics lessons and perfect gene-engineered hand-eye coordination to send it sailing into Karkat's base. It did a wholly unplanned loop and banged on a wall, but ended up in there eventually.

Paper crumpled in Karkat's hidey-hole; a low, dangerous snarl rose, only to be cut off like someone had pressed a button and turned off the sound. The alien burst out of the corner, suitcase kicked clean out of the way to bang into the desk. He looked so ready for a fight John was jumping on his feet and lifting his hands to block in sheer reflex.

Freeze. Stare.

"- Heh." John breathed out, dropped his hands. "Hehehe. You startled me. Uh-"

Karkat shoved the picture under his nose, cut him off with a quick bark of a word, and then a longer tirade as his claw tapped the monster-mech, more like a question.

John sighed, gave a slow nod, a sober look. "Rose says come with me."

He went to the door, palmed it open, walked out. There was no need to keep track of the alien; Karkat was this close to walking on his heels the whole way down. The second they reached the common room he scanned it for Rose, alert; if he'd had dog ears they would have been pointed up and quivering with tension. She wasn't there yet, though.

The elder Strider was. Sitting at the kitchen counter, he was sipping from a soda can, foot swinging casually. He wasn't turned toward them but shades or not John knew he'd noticed them. John went to the man, hands cautiously pulled out of his pockets in case he needed to dodge anything in a hurry. You never quite knew when he'd decide to test your reflexes, after all.

"Hey, Mister Strider." If this was a situation in which John could call him Bro, he'd be told, but the man only nodded a sober greeting back. "We're waiting for Rose."

"Yeah, me too."

John was now pretty sure he wasn't looking at John but straight past him. Just a feeling.

Strider slid off his barstool, landed in perfect silence on steel-toed boots that should have made some goddamn noise but somehow never did, tucked his thumbs in his pockets - fingerless black gloves, forearms corded with muscle and not a gram of fat, striped with an astonishing variety of scars, burn and knife and gun and whatever else. John didn't blame Karkat for going fighting-tense and shifting his weight on the balls of his feet; the man was a predator straight through.

Blink. Karkat didn't break eye contact, but he did slowly angle his face to the side - totally willing not to fight it out if you are! his body seemed to say - and said, to John, "... Deakka?"

"Haha, well-spotted. Yes, he's Dirk's... uh. Let's go with dad."

"Let's go with not."

John was pretty sure Mr. Strider was looking at _him _now, and not in a super-pleased way. "Hey! He's not from around here, I can't explain the exceptions first or he'll get all confused."

"Huh," went Karkat, or the alien equivalent, which was slightly more nasal and a touch more O-sounding but pretty much the same otherwise and John blamed Jane and her girlboner for linguistics for his ability to notice that. Oh did he blame her. He quickly typed it down and messaged it to her before he forgot.

"I see everyone is here," Rose said from the entry door, and they all turned to her in unison.

Karkat took a step toward her, and then forced himself to a stop, hands opening and closing, opening and closing like he really wanted to go grabbing at her, and maybe shake her down for answers a bit. John stepped up to him and bumped their shoulders together pointedly; Karkat closed his eyes briefly and breathed out long and slow, forcing his body to relax some. (And then he twitched and threw him a quick glare, what was that about?)

Karkat stepped forward again - head high, this time, spine straight and shoulders back and firm, slow enough not to be threatening but not submissive, not scared. Just determination, his eyes burned with it, the desperation that John knew was underlining it currently reined in. "Rrhoz."

"Khrkat," she returned calmly, nodding a greeting. Rose pulled a glossy picture out of the bulging, overfull folder under her arm, held it in front of her; it was the black and red mech, seen from the side as it floated on its back in some kind of huge pool. She arched an eyebrow. "Come, yes or no?"

Karkat's jaw clenched briefly, but he didn't snarl or glare; he tilted his chin up, just an inch. It should have looked like challenge but it didn't, quite. "...Yes."

She nodded thoughtfully, and pulled the headsets out of her folder, held them out. "John, I trust you don't mind serving as interpreter?"

"Nah, I'm good." He put his on his head, tugged a few locks of hair free, flipped the temple bits into place. Karkat was mirroring him at his side, jaw clenched, brows furrowed.

It wasn't words that came first this time around, just an awareness, the spine-prickling feeling of older-bigger-dangerous standing at his back and too close where he refused to turn to keep an eye on him, because no matter how deadly he was (_very deadly yeah man you have no idea_) they all knew the real power in the room was Rose. John himself was, was... _sleeping-lion?_, potentially dangerous but not hungry (maybe prideally but bound to Rose more, and whatever she decided, that would be it.) (_Hey not that much okay I mean she makes good plans but-_)

_My brain. Out._ Karkat's thoughts went all restrained; it was like hearing a crowd still too far away, a ton of voices but none stronger than a whisper, and so tangled they were impossible to differentiate.

_You gotta teach me that trick some day pretty neat all quietghost whisperly._

A brief burst of nonplussed amusement. _Help you protect your mind from me? you'd trust me/why would I? my one advantage you're so weird._

_... Okay, seen like that! haha um. _

Karkat slanted him a glance, something complicated brushing the surface of his thoughts and then submerging again, and then he shrugged. _... Fine, why not. Some day maybe. If your mind stops butterfly-fluttering ooh a shiny. Now tell Rose what does she want explain._

"Alright, it's working. Rose? We're listening."

She was watching the two of them, arms crossed, lips pursed, eyes unreadable, she'd probably been watching them like that all along, but that was Rose for you. She gave a quiet little sigh, shifted her weight, and focused on Karkat. "We have decided that fixing your mech will be mutually beneficial, and so there is no need to ask for a... good will gesture from your side first."

_Blackmail, she means,_ John involuntarily added; Karkat's reply was a feeling of teeth gritted, of _I could tell_.

_Won't make me cough up more intel for the privilege of saving _- something John couldn't untangle, but one of the components was the black mech, though it also flashed white a couple of times, slightly less humanoid somehow_. Soul of generosity! I am so delighted could piss out all my organs go dancing barefoot in the streets to express my unending joy woo broken glass gutter nastiness rusty nails it's a party (she really is being generous, too, the fuck is she angling for, what's her angle there has to be one just has to be.)_

John couldn't really contradict him. Rose could be extremely generous, actually! And caring, and concerned, and discreetly, pretend-I'm-not helpful. Once she had decided that she liked you, or that you were hers in some other way, that was. Otherwise not so much. There was no way Karkat was there yet, not even for John's sake.

"The rules are: You do not get access to the mech itself. We will be in a little observation room overhead. You can see, you cannot touch."

_(but how can I fix how can I healsave-)_

"We will be acting on your advice. John, how likely is it he would sabotage us and try to make us kill it instead?"

Karkat flinched, his immediate _never _followed by a quieter _know I should but, but no (can't be alone can't lose it/him no one else left nooneelse), can't, should but I can't (such a failure so weak soweak) _that tore at John, made him flinch, made his hands clench from the need to touch him. "Not at all," he assured Rose, forcing a smile that didn't seem to convince her.

"That's good to know," she replied slowly, watching him with eyes narrowed in thought, before turning back to the alien. "Next rule. There will be civilian humans around. You do not touch them, you do not _approach _them, you do not deliberately scare them, you do not attempt to interact in any way. Needless to say if you go so far as to hurt them our agreement is null and void and you will be returned to the research and interrogation divisions."

John nodded with Karkat's own radiating feeling of sober agreement. The alien had little interest in civilians (what was that notion anyway, noncombatants? Were they injured/weak but kept because so smart it was okay?) so long as they didn't attack him first, but if they were so weak, that shouldn't be an issue... Huh, would he even be allowed to defend himself or would that count as hurting them?

_I'll defend you. It'd be unfair to make you stand there and take it. Plus kind of baiting you, asshole move._

"And the last rule." She slipped her hand in her folder again.

Oh hey, handcuffs. Karkat didn't recognize them at first, alien wrist restraints probably looked different, but he lifted their use from John's mind and stiffened. Behind them Mr. Strider shifted his weight quite deliberately, reminding them he was still in arm's reach.

_Okay okay I can do it, doesn't change a thing really I can't fight anyway._

John's first instinctive response was _they look like cop handcuffs you could break the chain easy._ Though even as Karkat breathed out in a shuddery gust, he had to correct, _ah no crap that's titanium you couldn't. I mean dude __**I **__couldn't I'd break my wrists first and they'd still be locked in only swelling everywhere and really achy. Um sorry._

_... thanks for nothing emperor dumbass._ But it _had_ made him feel better anyway, though he locked that away quickly before John could overhear exactly why or how much. Didn't stop John grinning, though. Karkat let out a tiny, puff-of-breath, reluctant laugh and looked up at Rose. "Yes." _How?_ _Ask her how._

"Front or back, Rose?"

"Hm. Back for today. If he behaves we might change that." She held out the handcuffs; John reached out. Mr. Strider reached past him, between the two of them, and snatched them first. Karkat tensed up and flinched around, vaguely thinking of dark indistinct shapes in the water that could have swallowed his boat whole, gliding _so close_, a flicker of memory he didn't even seem to pay attention to, and that John hoarded quickly to the back of his own head, or at least tried to. Karkat didn't seem to notice, at any rate.

Mr. Strider made a quick little "turn around" motion with his fingers; slowly, reluctantly, Karkat went back to facing Rose. _How dangerous is he really, scarred face scarred everything maybe just means he gets hurt a lot...?_

_Haha uh no. Like. Really no. He's been training me all my life and I've only dropped him five times tops, and I think for two of them he was showing me how to come back up after taking a fall/deal with fighting while in pain. None of us pilots can take him I really don't think you can either._

(Okay no, sometimes they managed, but it was always flukes, or felt like it anyway.)

Karkat crossed his wrists behind his back with only a minimal shiver; his mind voice stayed full of snark and not as much nerves as John had expected. _I get it he is lord badass emperor of badasses eats steel and uranium for breakfast craps out starship fuel rods yadda yadda._

Hehe. _Not scared (anymore)?_

_... No point, if I'm not going to fight him anyway (if he's so much better the end result's already known no need to bother.) I shall be so docile a sheep would fucking weep from shame at my shining example and throw itself on the butcher's knife, knowing its life of softfluffy servility is a futile, hopelessly outmatched endeavor from there on._

"Pff."

"John?" Rose inquired. He gave her a deflecting grin; he really didn't think she needed to hear that one in full, and it was fun having a secret conversation right in front of people. Reminded him of his brief stint at normal school and passing notes behind the teacher's back.

"Nah, nothing. Karkat's being rambly." A little shrug. "He promises he'll play nice!"

_Promise my ass as if I've got a choice._

Karkat tugged on the handcuffs, testing the way they settled against his wrists. Mr. Strider had set them pretty tight, John could tell at a glance; there was absolutely no way Karkat would slip out of them, not even if aliens could dislocate their thumbs.

_(You can **what?** That's disgusting.)_

"If everyone's ready? Let's go."

They trailed out after Rose. Karkat wrapped his fingers around his wrist so the chain wouldn't be pulled taut and the edge of the metal cuffs wouldn't dig into his skin, Mr. Strider walking behind him with his hand wrapped around Karkat's other wrist. The man could haul him around or throw him down with zero warning that way, so vulnerable fuckfuckfuck but he wasn't interested in hurting Karkat and besides he was Dirk's father right he'd be pretty much like Dirk only older and Dirk was pretty okay so far. Yeah. _Yeah, okay, breathe. Staircase, harder to balance without arms but doable and (John'd probably catch me anyways (yeah of course he/I would))_

Stairs and stairs, another handprint-locked wooshing door, and then they were stepping out in the courtyard, way bigger when you didn't have a big robot to cross it for you but he'd been so sick didn't remember it, they'd floated? Flown? Flown yeah I remember now no wait that's you, that's-

Outside a dozen soldiers in tactical vest stood facing the door in a half-circle, Jack Noir right in the middle. God_damn_ it.

"Egbert," Mr. Strider said in his low, veiled voice. "_Hold_." Absolute order; John took Karkat's arm without thinking twice, grasp not too-tight but solid, all business. Strider let go, stepped a little to the side so he'd have more space to move.

"How nice of you to come assist us," Rose said in her most neutral voice.

_What's going on? Shit that's the psycho guy made you fall zapped you, shit shit why so many guards, try to take me by force?(can't fight oh shit should have known **I can't fight**-)_

"Shh." John squeezed Karkat's arm a little, trying to be reassuring. _Nah, they have to be polite we're out in the open people would see not sneaky._

Karkat was a little doubtful as to how the threat of being seen would stop them, but he seemed tentatively willing to take John's word for it. _(If you're wrong I will haunt the __**fuck **__out of you.)_

"Be damn unconscionable if we didn't," Noir answered Rose, "seeing how you're gonna drag that thing right amongst a bunch of fucking civilians."

Rose gave him a polite smile. "You are entirely right, of course. Shall we?"

Wait, what? -Aw _damn_, right. Stupid jurisdiction overlaps.

"Not so fast." Noir's eyes narrowed in thought as he looked her over, and then scanned the other members of their little group. Mr. Strider got a little curl of his upper lip, but his eyes glided past him and onto John and Karkat. Karkat's eyelids twitched; he didn't bare his teeth, but he wanted to. So instead John stared back at Noir, and then smiled, the friendliest, toothiest smile he could muster.

"We're on a schedule, Mr. Noir," Rose reminded him pointedly. "The scientists are having to postpone a lot of experiments-"

"Won't take a minute." He pulled a length of black cloth from some pocket, lobbed it at Rose. "Blindfold. Not leaving it able to find its way back there."

Karkat hissed low and quiet between his teeth.

"I am not unwilling to compromise, but this wouldn't work," she countered with a sigh. "The reason is as of now still classified, but believe me, it wouldn't."

John hesitated. Karkat really didn't like the idea, though he'd gone on brain lockdown again and John couldn't tell how badly, but Noir was going to be a right pain in the ass if they didn't give some ground, and uh, thinking about it, it would be kinda irresponsible to take a really strong, claws-equipped alien out for a walk with such a small escort, even if they were all three of them badasses in their own right.

**JH: we could take off the headsets?**

Rose threw him a quick, unimpressed look.

**RS: The information would still be in your head when you put it back on.**

**JH: ... oh right.**

"Humor me," Noir said, in a voice that didn't sound like it even knew humor in passing.

_Okay why the fuck do they want me blind shit they could hobble me too while they're at it truss me up tie me to a pole like a pig to be roasted put sticks through my eardrums saw off my horns would I be hindered enough then?_

_They're scared you'll escape and find your way back there._

Karkat's flash of surprise was smothered almost immediately, but not before John could catch the bewilderment, the edge of 'what's being able to see got to do with finding my way back?' He couldn't help but blink and look at Karkat; Noir broke eye contact with Rose to stare at him.

"What's got you making faces, brat?"

"Maybe just seeing yours," Mr. Strider drawled, sounding bored. "Huh. Good point. Wouldn't want the alien to go blind. Hand that over, Lalonde."

John was torn between relief that Noir had stopped paying attention to him to glare daggers at Mr. Strider and worry at how much like a lump of iron Karkat's biceps was starting to feel.

Mr. Strider didn't ask Karkat his opinion; he just stepped behind him, deftly plucked out the telepathic headset - sudden silence, cut right in the middle of a burst of ohfuckshit - and folded the length of cloth in two and tied it on. Karkat's claws pressed tight against his own forearm, on the edge of piercing through the skin. John flicked his finger against the inside of his upper arm to distract him.

Another wraparound, another knot; Mr. Strider casually tugged a few locks of hair out from under the blindfold so they wouldn't pull and then put the headset back on Karkat's head.

"Nice color, by the way," Noir grunted, eyeing the hot pink headbands on Karkat and John's heads with a suspicious eye. "New fucking alien fashion?"

He said it with an undertone that flipped the words around, _you an alien-fucker yet, boy?_ Made John want to punch him in the mouth. He could see the taser at his belt, so maybe not right away. (That shit really, _really _hurt, damn it.)

And Karkat was blind, blind, blind, fifteen humans who were looking for an excuse to shoot him and drag him back to be tortured all around him and Rose who was so cold and might find defending him not cost-effective and Dirk's father who had no reason to give a shit and John-

_John, you - John, shit, you - I can't see **I can't see** fuck (you're an enemy I shouldn'tcan't thisissobad) fuck don't leave (can't ask you that) (there's no one else) please I (shameful so shameful what next crawling shit shit shit) **please**-_

_I won't leave,_ John replied, and briefly squeezed Karkat's faintly trembling arm, _I wasn't going to, you don't have to beg, you never did._

_I. Fuck. Pretend you didn't hear any of that I just - okay, okay, I can deal I'll just. Think sheepy thoughts. Yeah. Baa. Is me._

Heh.

"There, there," Strider was saying to Noir, all heavy-lidded and slouchy and _bored_, "No need to be envious, that shade would clash with your panties anyway."

Caught by surprise, John couldn't keep himself from laughing. Neither could a couple of Noir's men, though theirs was shaded with horror. Noir turned his head sloooowly to pinpoint them, nostrils flaring, but all fifteen of them were doing their best to stare holes through the building's wall. Rose's lips were pinched in what looked like annoyance but was more likely to be restrained hilarity.

_I don't get what's wrong with those specific undergarments, or with that color,_ Karkat told him, forgetting to be panicked for a brief perplexed instant.

_It's uh for girls?_

_... (aliens are weird of course it's for girls it's pink) And? _

John floundered. _Uh._

_It wouldn't hold those ridiculous floppy bits properly I guess (why am I having these thoughts I'm blaming you I will blame you forever cannot unsee) but why is that so funny?_

_No, it's - urgh never mind I'll get Jade to explain crossdressing to you later we're walking now. Okay there's nothing in front of you it's fine and anyway I'm holding you up you can't fall._

Karkat kept on being quietly puzzled as to why John thought he would fall. _It's one step ahead I'm not that - _ Okay what was the last notion there, it had to do with perceptions but John couldn't tell if it was blind or deaf or hindered or something else entirely. _(I know they're tiny but fuck you very much John alien.)_

He wasn't sure who got it first, it was like the thought had sparked at the same time across both sides of the divide, or so close it made no difference with how fast the echo came. _Horns? No horns. Oh._

_How does it-_ John started to ask.

_Well it - not telling, it just does._

_... Heh okay. I have to tell Rose though._

Karkat returned a mental shrug, and his attention slid away from their conversation and toward the men escorting them, light steps on the packed-earth courtyard, surrounding them, moving with them like a school of fish. It was a bit eerie. Rose led the way, but Noir and Mr. Strider had fallen back, flanking John and Karkat, two steps back, the best vantage point to either tackle them or each other.

"I suppose you would like a less direct path?" Rose inquired as they crossed the yard.

"Yeah. Go through the med labs. Lower level's empty today."

_... Asshole,_ John thought.

_What?_

_He wants to confuse you yeah? We're going through medical. It's uh gonna smell pretty distinctive sorry. (I wonder if he - ambush?) Crap! Didn't mean to think that-_

_I managed to think it on my own,_ Karkat retorted wryly. _You won't freak me out more than I do myself I'm a pro at imagining catastrophic endings should make it a job or something (I'll be better at it than mech pilot for sure) horrific visions of flaming death and epic failure nonstop in here it's like an action-thriller-horror movie theater we're open all day please feel free to never leave. (wish I could.)_

John only realized he'd said "Aw, buddy, no" out loud when Rose looked over her shoulder at him.

"Everything alright?" she asked, casually but just quiet enough to be unintelligible by the guards. John shrugged.

"So far, yeah." Oh hey, it gave him an idea. "Keep watch for a sec?" he asked with a quick grin. Rose quirked an eyebrow but dropped to their level, hands joined behind her back casually. Good. He didn't want Karkat to think he was leaving him totally defenseless, after all, and soon they'd be in the hospital and once there he'd have to keep his eyes peeled.

He closed his eyes, leaned his mind toward Karkat's. Not looking for deeper thought, this time, just sort of... piggybacking onto the running commentary of his awareness.

Booted feet on the ground, heavy/mid-tall, he could only locate the closest... five, six? This one was Rose, lighter, and Noir and Dirk's father were much quieter/lighter/shallower than they should have been at this distance. Predators, stalking, herding him, made prickles run up his spine, made his horns ache at the roots straining to - oh, a wall coming up, heavy building, stairs coming in two steps, one step, huh, why hadn't John _John you open your fucking eyes right this instant what the fuck!_

John didn't trip, because he still remembered where Karkat thought the first step was (he'd been pretty accurate too.) He was grinning from ear to ear. Maybe it was because Karkat was blinded right now but John hadn't really noticed that extra sense in his mind before. It was such a strange way to see the world, fuzzy and hard for his mind to grasp; he got along more with Karkat's understanding of the sensations than the sensations themselves. It was subtle. Probably having his eyes open drowned it right out.

_What the fuck were you ooh you sneaky little bastard that's pretty good (don't want to admire you idiot-savant but damn) how'd you figure that out (shit I'm the one who's lived with psychics all my life how the fuck did you first ah there it is.) Oh huh your colors are a bit weird._

Karkat's relief at once again catching flashes of vision made John a bit light-headed. _No, yours!_ John retorted, grinning a bit wider. A couple of Noir's men kept sending him wary, baffled looks. He winked at them. He thought he could sort of feel Karkat looking through his eyes, but it was so faint he might have imagined it. At least Karkat was calming down some; that was good enough.

**JH: thanks rose! done now.  
JH: horns are sensory organs. kinda like echolocation? his radius is pretty small, apparently on account of tiny horns, but you couldn't make him walk into a door. there go all my best pranks for today.**

**JH: it feels really weird! but pretty cool.**

_What in the name of the greatmother/monster/originofall's ever-discharging asshole are you doing? Mind feels all weird._

_Oh, I'm typing at Rose._

Lips parted, Karkat twitched his chin like he wanted to turn his head to stare at him, but whoops blindfold, nothing to see, apart from a mildly dizzying mirror-echo flash when John glanced his way. Whoa.

_What where how? Telepathic after all?_

_No silly, glasses. They read brain impulses. (man between that and the mind-snot headsets I hope none of it will give me brain cancer.) You've got to learn to use a normal keyboard at first but once you know how to do that and it's all ingrained you just have to think typing thoughts._

...Which apparently Karkat couldn't access as well, or even at all. Huh! Maybe it didn't use the same part of the brain. Iiiinteresting. He'd tell Rose that later, it sounded like something she'd love to know. Her and Roxy.

_... Huh. Okay. Now pay attention for fuck's sake Noir's getting closer I don't like this._

John casually let himself fall back a half-step, so he'd have an easier time getting in the middle if anything happened. _Stop tugging on your wrists, you'll hurt yourself. I've got it._

_(godfuckingdamnit stopflirting.)_

John was tempted to sputter that he wasn't flirting goddamnit, but he could tell Karkat didn't really think he was, only that it sounded like pretty much textbook it, oh those wacky aliens. He could also tell that Karkat was now breathing too fast, and through his mouth in an effort to minimize the scent of formaldehyde and disinfectant. Okay, if fabricating reasons to get annoyed at John could keep him distracted...

**RS: That's interesting. We suspected, considering how poorly he took to the MRI scanner, that he was perceiving the magnetic field somehow. I wonder if it's this same ability or a different one.**

**JH: how poorly are we talking about?**

**RS: He was vomiting and experiencing vertigo for up to a hour afterwards. No bleeding out any orifices or observable long-term effects, but his exposure was relatively short, all things considered.**

**JH: ... plans to weaponize the heck out of that?**

No answer for a second, two, and then Rose gave a strangely reluctant little nod.

**RS: Naturally.**

**JH: makes sense.**

Rose gave him a weird little look that he couldn't read. He frowned.

**JH: what? it does. a weakness like that.  
JH: i just hope they won't push to test the high settings on Karkat. i am having no illusions on the lowest settings but damn it they already have the first test results, they'll have to make do. :/**

**RS: No need to worry about that. It would be easy to argue that as long as he's the only alien we have in custody, testing him to destruction is wasteful and short-sighted.**

**RS: And if/when we manage to capture more it then becomes about human rights, but this part is more murky seeing as they are not, per se, human.**

**JH: yeah and if as a result we treat them like they're not even animals then we're not human either.**

**RS: I wish everyone would see it the way you do.**

But they didn't, of course. People sucked some days.

_Hey pay attention (I can't see when you're not **watching** damn it.) Bet your ass he's trying to make me flip my shit perfect excuse to go oh hey you can't control your alien-shaped useless-companion miniature lion thing we need to control him ourselves so noble aren't we. (that's how people-shaped redbleeding aliens think right? like highranknoble but playpretend oh no, so nice?)_

Karkat was trying to make his mind feel flippant, annoyed, but underneath that John could almost feel/see/relive the memories that the smell of the place brought up. Prickly, though - undertones of _(stop pitying coddling shielding me I'm strong too I'm a fighter damn it not your _pet_ not.) _

So hey, there were better ways to fix his mood. _You're not going to flip your shit anyway are you?_ he asked. _Be all civil and calm and nice it'll piss him off even more._

_Yeah good idea prisoner piss off the alien with the gun and the grudge._

_Pff you're (mine) my prisoner he can fuck off._

Uh. Maybe that was a bit, uh, maybe being able to telepath at each other so fast, faster than their ability to censor themselves, was a bit problematic, because from the way Karkat had slammed the metaphorical door in his face again, uh. Yeah.

_Karkat? I didn't mean like creepy slavething mine. Responsible-for-you mine?... Karkat? Kaaaarkaaaat?_

It took a couple of minutes, pointlessly walking up and down silent, clown-painted corridors (_fuck those clowns_, thought a small part of John's mind, but a much smaller part than usual, preoccupied as he was), and Karkat's shoulders had hunched forward, and he ... well, it was hard to say if he would have avoided John's eyes or not considering at the moment there was a length of black cloth cutting the gray of his face in two, making the twist of his mouth pretty much unreadable.

_... Whatever,_ Karkat eventually mind-grunted. _Out soon?_

_Yeah. We've uh lalala song lyrics song lyrics crap I need a song I really hope if I can maybe sing the right song in my head long enough I'll stop thinking it and you won't uhhh argh maybe a really annoying one?_

_Relax, idiot, I can already tell we've gone down the same corridor twice. ... Yes even with you going notwatching forgetting sillydistracted all the stupid time. You guys really can't...?_

John shared a mental shrug. Some people had a good general sense of direction. Also you could count corners and feel-remember roughly how many degrees each successive turn you'd taken was and add them up. Made things more about memory and logic than just plain senses, though. Karkat absorbed it, thoughtful.

_All that and you don't even have psychics you poor stunted bastards._

_... yeah well your **horns** are stunted so there._

Karkat drew himself up and actually growled under his breath, the kind that made John's teeth vibrate somehow with how low it was, and when the guards surrounding them stiffened and the muzzles of their guns twitched his way he didn't even stand down. _Your __**teeth**__ are stunted that's even worse!_

Well, the plan _had_ been to get Karkat annoyed enough that he forgot to be scared! John decided to pretend that stunning and witty comeback about the horns had been a deliberate part of said plan all along. _Wow_, he sent over with a healthy helping of amusement on top, _you must be the first person ever to take issue with my teeth for being too small that's a novelty._

_Not the size dumbfuck the rounded edges. No teeth no claws you're dull all over no pointy bits at all the rest of the biosphere must be made of marshmallow how the fuck does a species like yours even survive otherwise._

_Mostly by being the nastiest-minded vindictive assholes out here_, John admitted, and then Rose stealth-kicked his ankle. "Ow!"

"Oh, sorry, John!" she lied. The messenger icon was flashing angrily at him in the corner of his lenses, and had been for a little bit now.

**RS: Would you mind telling me why he's growling?**

**RS: John?**

**RS: John!**  
**JH: i may have insulted his horns to distract him from being nervous. it totally worked!**

**RS: By making everyone else tense. I know your conversations must be fascinating but situational awareness is a good thing to have.**

**RS: He's sensitive about his horns, I take it?**

John snickered, sneaked Karkat a look. His lips were still clearly down-turned. _Pff pouting._

_(stop being so desperate about the flirting damn it will you go through the whole grid what's next throwing Dave at me and then getting in the middle) Shut your face before I shut it with my fist._

John manfully refrained from retorting anything too loudly about empty threats or Karkat being currently handcuffed so he'd like to see him try. He wasn't very good at controlling his thoughts, sadly enough, but Karkat only huffed and turned his head pointedly away. (The guard on that side went all twitchy because it looked kind of like Karkat was staring at him through the blindfold; Mr. Strider scoffed under his breath.)

**JH: the more it goes on the more i think it's like making a small feet joke at a guy.**

**RS: ...  
RS: I *see*.**

**JH: hehehe.**

Rose rolled her eyes at him, and then looked over her shoulder at Noir, who still shadowed Karkat like he couldn't wait to try out the deep fry setting of his taser on his gray ass.

"It might be a good time to mention that preliminary testing has shown the alien to have a positively pigeon-like ability to orient himself, and might now be wondering why this is the third time we are passing the big harlequin."

(Oh crap, that harlequin. John remembered bursting into tears the first time he'd seen it. And the second time too, and the third, and after that he'd learned to go with his eyes closed. There was just something deeply unsettling in its friendly smile and ceiling-to-floor looming frame.

Why that would make Karkat respond - past the first alarmed _Whatswrong let me see_ - with a sudden burst of, of _affection _John didn't get, but Rose and Noir were still staring at each other and it was a bit distracting.)

"May we get out of this building yet?" Rose was asking with weary patience.

It was probably exactly what she wanted when Noir speared her with a look like he was wondering why his eyes weren't fitted with death lasers yet. "It can _what_. You're saying that _now_? What the fuck is wrong with you, hiding that shit from people who really do fucking well need to know?"

_What's going on? John?_ Noir's steps echoed heavier behind Karkat now, his presence-echo more - more _dense_, in a weird way John didn't have words for. Karkat interpreted it as rising threat level, though; John had to tug on his arm to keep him from speeding up and taking himself farther out of arm's reach, or they might think he was trying to run away.

"I did tell you it would be a pointless exercise. You were not in a receptive frame of mind." An elegant shrug. "It didn't cost us to make the attempt regardless, but we _are _on a schedule here and the clock is ticking."

Noir seemed ready to spit nails. Mr. Strider stuck his hands in his pockets as he turned to him - _ooh, insulting_, John thought, and could feel Karkat thinking it right alongside him, _all 'eh, I could take you with just my feet'_, echoing so close John could only pick up which was whose from the undertones, John's from knowing the man and Karkat's just because it was apparently this blatant, what do you mean most people wouldn't read it that way.

_Assuming you're right and your people are all stupid and blind and trustingsoft then Noir must know him well if he can read him too,_ Karkat commented, trying to distract himself from the nearly palpable crackle of tension at his back between the two men. John started to turn to look at him, and then a priority message took up his whole left lens.

**BR: Egbert, stop chatting up the alien. Half the guys now think you have imaginary friends.**

**BR: The other, smarter half have probably figured out the glasses thing, it's not that new as technologies go, but honestly. If someone is observant enough to notice that, it's a fair bet they might also notice that it's not Rose you're chatting with. Guy's body language is as controlled and opaque as yours, for fuck's sake, he telegraphs like he's in a western.**

Whoops. Um.

"There, there," Mr. Strider was drawling in real time, multitasking telling John off and pissing off Noir like a pro, "nothing to worry about. But Medical just doesn't cut it for a romantic walk, you know? B plus for effort, though."

"I am going to stab you in the kidneys, Strider," Noir hissed really quietly (but Karkat's ears were really good and even if he didn't understand the sounds John did so hey.) "And then I'm going to step on your face and _stab you again_."

"Aw, hon, that's so sweet," Mr. Strider drawled, at normal volume. A couple of guards choked quietly. "Exit's that way."

Biting his lip to keep from laughing, John tugged Karkat's arm and guided him in the right direction; the guards glanced back to Noir, and, with his curt nod, preceded them out.

Thankfully there was no courtyard between that building and the next, only an alley. Noir made them stop before the door, sending two men forward to "clear out the idiot civilians who likely thought 'off-limits for the duration' meant 'unless you've got that super important doodad to pick up real quick'."

They shed another handful of men to guard the staircase as they ascended and a few sent off to whatever key points the man had noticed, which was - huh, quite a few more than John himself had noticed. John might really dislike him but the asshole _was _good at his job.

He would have thought Karkat would be interested to keep aware of where all the threats were, even if he had no intention to escape, but with each step up he took the alien's thoughts thrummed stronger and stronger with strobe flashes of anticipation-worry-guilt-worry, with the biomech flashing between its black and white versions, _wanttofeelsafe shieldme _warring with _sofuckingsorry shouldneverhave _and _needtofix needtohelp_.

He'd beg, if Rose decided to make him, he'd _beg_ to be allowed to betray his people's secrets, and the shame was sickening but that didn't make it any less true.

_Don't be stupid, she won't_, John tried to send him, but even though he wasn't actively blocking him out Karkat was turned so far inwards he didn't pay any attention.

They were guided to a room off to the side, sort of narrow but long; the opposite wall from the door was all windows, lined with tables and computers and notes and observation machines and stuff John either didn't know or didn't get enough time to identify at a glance. There were three people in white coats massed at the end of the room, behind four of Noir's men, weapons out.

Karkat didn't give a shit about any of that; he'd turned to face the windows, arm quivering under John's hand.

Noir and Mr. Strider traded sides, choreographed-smooth, so Noir could stand between Karkat and the civilians and Mr. Strider could take Karkat's other arm. Karkat gave a faint twitch, but didn't fight, didn't even ask John what, why. His chin was up and the muscles of his jaw rolling, but there was no thought to be had, only a thrum of alertness, expectation.

Rose turned on her heel from where she'd been exchanging polite nods with the head scientist, took the three of them in. "Khrkat?"

"... Yes." _Whatever you want._

John didn't even have to translate. "Hm," she said, and then, a little more gently, "I'll take the blindfold off. Stay still."

"From behind, Lalonde," Noir reminded her, gruff but low.

"Of course," she said through a little accepting sigh, and stepped around to get at the knot from behind. "I'm fairly sure he doesn't have rabies, but... Ah, there we go."

She went back around, rolling the blindfold in her hand. Karkat blinked the fuzziness out of his vision, irises going painful-tight under the harsh ceiling lamps. John lost track of the faint echolocation feedback.

"Come with me."

There were only a few steps left to the window, maybe four or five. Karkat ignored everything else.

The hangar underneath contained a borderline Olympic-sized pool. The biomech floated there in some sort of tarpaulin that kept it from getting wet. Two of its upper limbs were in traction, like the hugest broken arms ever; the left grasper-arm was - no surprise - still missing, nothing but a nice big papered-over gap in the shell to show where it used to emerge under the pincer-arm's armpit. Vivid red cracks and dulled pinks ran through the chest plate, horns on that triceratops-crown at the back of its head and on its shoulders were chipped. It was broken and utterly still, chained down every three steps, people running with contemptuous familiarity right up its raptor leg, and watching its massive chest suddenly expand to take a single breath still made John jump.

Sheer spinal reflex had his finger twitching on an imaginary trigger, wishing for his blaster, wishing for Warhammer's controls under his hands, Warhammer's weapons. _This is the enemy_, he knew-felt-thought, all his years of battle experience yelled, _this is-_

_(-dad.)_

... What?

Karkat's face was a mask, jaw tense, brows barely furrowed, eyes heavy-lidded in something that looked almost like boredom. Weary but resolute, it projected. Behind that... behind that, things buzzed and rustled and screamed, too far away to pinpoint, to unwrap rage from pain.

_Is it a... memento from your dad?_ John asked cautiously, trying his best to keep his own revulsion at bay. Karkat didn't answer, eyes roaming over his nightmare of a mech, tracking every break, every chip in hardened chitin.

"Why is it in a pool?" Mr. Strider asked, tilting his head so he could look at the scientists over Karkat and John's heads.

One of the doctors - a big black man in a white coat and bright aqua turtleneck - took a step forward, quickly checked by the guards. He gave them a mildly annoyed look but didn't try it again. "The organs might be made to resist short bursts of acceleration, but we have no idea how well they'd stand up to long stays under normal gravity. We're setting up an antigrav room, but the size of the field is a problem." A little shrug. "In the meantime, water helps. You could ask him if it's necessary."

"We certainly could."

The doctor furrowed his eyebrows. "You _can_ communicate with him, right?"

Rose hesitated. Noir slanted her a look, and rolled his eyes. "Let's cut to the chase. I do know people in Interrogation, I can guess what the fashion statement is about. Stop playing coy. If there's a tech leak it won't be from my fucking people."

... Well um.

Mr. Strider sighed. "Well. Too many people from too many branches know anyway, it was a matter of time."

"We can," Rose capitulated. "Doctor King, was it? I suppose you have a list?" The man nodded; another of the doctors hurried to get a clipboard from a table at the back of the room and they started whispering to each other. Rose turned to Karkat; John elbowed him to get him to pay attention. He turned from the window reluctantly, stared at her in a way that seemed weirdly grim, like subdued hostility. "Khrkat. You may interact with these people. Verbally. Don't try to approach. John, ask him about the gravity issue, please."

"Uh, sure." _They want to know, is the gravity going to hurt it long-term? Organ failure and stuff I guess._

_No._ Karkat paused, frowned a little. _Not standing up. Lying down might bruise his organs some (it's not how they're kept in dock.) Probably not for a while longer. Our gravity's higher._

John relayed. One of the doctors took notes.

"Alright. Now the most urgent item is the breaks in the shell - we've had to stave off several infections so far, though really not as much as there should have been with so much exposed raw flesh. But we did have to trim the leftover stump on the secondary left arm before the infection could reach the main arteries."

Karkat hid a flinch at that one. _(Shit.)_ He turned to look at the doctor, who didn't move and met his eyes with calm determination, but one of the other two flinched back a bit, going vaguely green, and shifted so he'd be more fully behind one of Noir's people. Karkat didn't spare him a thought. _John ask him, is the shoulder joint ball still intact? (won't grow back otherwise shit shit shit.)_

"Wow. He's asking if the ball part of the joint is still intact, because apparently it could grow back if it still is?"

_Only with proper nutrients and appropriate medical attention (damn it what do I know about that shit do I look like a sweaty douchebag mechdoctor why didn't I listen to his stupid tirades more I am such a useless waste of space.) _An image briefly flashed through, a big guy with a broken horn, the feel of him - his appearance, his person - all wrapped up in _blue_.

"Huh. We did notice the regeneration ability, but for a whole limb to - ah." The big man gave Karkat a sober look. "I'm sorry, the skeleton was infected."

Karkat closed his eyes, breathed in, and swore under his breath, something that didn't really translate to John but had a lot of snake-hisses running through it at the very edge of his ability to hear; it made the hair on John's forearms stand up.

_Hey, uh... At least it's alive, right? Still alive. I mean it's not great but...?_

Why that would make Karkat flinch, he didn't know. _Shut up, whatever. Tell them the most important is to fix the cracks in the chest and back plates. He'll suffocate otherwise._

John then spent several minutes trying to explain what Karkat was visualizing, and then explaining back to Karkat what turtles were and why the same thing happened to them because having air under the shell would make their lungs collapse and apparently that wasn't quite the same issue but close enough for government work, and did he think the usual treatment for turtles would work.

"... Listen, guys, can we just sit down at a table and maybe have some paper and pens? I swear he's not gonna stab anyone with it. I can't figure out how to explain half of what he thinks up."

Noir frowned. "Hm. How about he thinks it, you draw it. Don't tell me you can't hold a pencil steady, not with your hand-eye coordination scores."

Noir knew his scores. _Creeeepy_. "Hm. Karkat, that works for you?"

Expressionless. "Yes."

"And I'll be helping hold him."

Karkat hissed softly, staring at Noir for a second, before breaking eye contact. _Whatever. (go ahead grab me, free sample day at the feel up an alien shop-)_

"I dunno," John said hesitantly, mostly to be a dick, "You're really not as strong."

Noir leveled a heavy-lidded look at him and pointedly twirled his taser by the trigger guard in a little loop. Gnrgh.

"Hrsst." _Thanks John if his finger slips while it's anywhere near me I am stuffing that thing up your ass I swear to the eternal gods in between the star-void. (that's if I still have a brain left it didn't dribble all out yeah more likely.)_

"Okay, okay. Jesus."

"Keep your hold," Noir instructed as he made his way behind the three of them.

Mr. Strider tracked him, but didn't say anything, so John made himself not say anything either, not even when the first thing he did when he got in range was to press the mouth of his taser right up against the base of Karkat's skull. It nestled there amongst the shorter bristles of his hair, nudging pointedly. John reminded himself that if he cracked his tooth enamel again clenching his jaw too hard the dentist would bitch him out even harder than last time.

"Fun thing about point blank range," Noir mused under his breath, "I can deliver shocks pretty much continuously until the battery runs out."

"Will you stop being such a huge asswipe," John growled back, "he's not going anywhere, he _wants _us to fix his mech, he's not gonna mess it up."

"Go give your pretty little guarantees to the guys he put in the hospital," Noir snarled back with sudden, shocking sincerity, "oh wait, Fernandez would have to come out of his fucking coma first."

-oh.

"Now shut the fuck up and move to the side - don't let go." He wound his arm with Karkat's, going under his elbow from the outside and then twisting up to press his hand behind Karkat's shoulder blade, so he could just twist a bit and keep him off balance or even force him down on the ground with relative ease. "There. Let go."

Reluctantly, John did. _Mr. Strider will protect you_, he sent Karkat, but the alien only replied with a weary thought-ripple that didn't convey much apart from how sick and tired he was of just about everything.

John made his way to the nearest table and accepted a notebook and pens that one of the doctors had slid him along the table. He sat with a sigh and started drawing the cross-section schematics of the shell Karkat was visualizing for him. Doctor King eventually made his way to him, flanked by two of the guards. Huh, John could have sat down closer to him; he just wasn't sure how far before the signal between him and Karkat decayed too much to convey everything properly, and the room was really kind of long. He smiled in apology, pulled out a chair for him.

"Okay, so we need an air-tight patch, is the first thing, and the cracks aren't big and he doesn't need to breathe a lot, but you'll still have to aspirate the air under the shell out first before you do anything. Second, the shell will grow back, but it's gonna take a little while. They have organic supports that get kinda absorbed as things grow back through them, the way we do with bone repairs, but Karkat's not sure of the composition or how they make them or anything, so it's gonna have to be the low-tech option."

He kept sketching. The patches had to be kept way clear of the broken edges of the shell, or it'd scar and stop growing back, kind of arch a bit over, the way a bridge couldn't stand right on the edge of the riverbank or it would eventually crumble into the water...

"Hm. Yes, pretty much what they do for turtles," said the other doctor, the woman one, as she joined the two of them and leaned in. The last guy was still back there, waffling around hesitantly behind his guards. "We'll need to call a vet for suggestions on the best techniques, it'll have to be adapted for size-"

"Yes, and tested for allergic reactions as well, though the outer shell shouldn't give us trouble as it's designed to let nothing in or out regardless..."

They devolved into medico-technical babble about appropriate glues that John only vaguely understood. He listened for a minute, then cleared his throat. "Karkat wanted to ask about fuel. Uh, food? Same thing. He, huh, wow, medical terms. Okay, I didn't get that." Karkat sent him a feeling like a longsuffering sigh, and the taste of sugar suddenly flooded his mouth. "Guh. Sugar. Pure sugar. He'll have, uh... vitamin issues later on? Some kind of deficiency. But so far he mostly needs sugar."

The woman doctor's brow furrowed. "How do you administer, with the shell...? Saline drips wouldn't work. Does it eat on its own?"

John shuddered. Scary thought. Karkat scoffed at him. _Wimp_.

"Feeding tube will work." _Thank God._

_Wimpy wimp._

John would have been much more reassured if Karkat was saying so because it was impossible; but the undertone was clear that he was saying it because it was _unlikely_. Yeah, no, he was going to keep being freaked out, thanks.

"What type of sugar?"

"I really don't know, I'm sorry. Urgh, and Karkat says the mech feeding on his own is _unlikely_, but..." He grimaced a bit, ruffled the hair at the back of his head nervously. Those mandibles, oh lord. All the lab techs running all over the mech. They now reminded him of mice thinking the cat was dead when it was really just taking a nice refreshing nap. "Just the fact that it's possible at all means you guys should probably know."

The doctors traded glances. "Now that's unexpected," Doctor King said, an eyebrow arched. "Are you sure?"

"Uh." John checked with Karkat. "Yep. Sometimes they have reflexive actions, I guess. Like, even without their pilot."

"Hm. Well, the mech's brain impulses are pretty much even stranger than the alien's himself, so it shouldn't be too surprising."

"... But it's surprising anyway." John tilted his head. "Why?"

"Well." The woman doctor considered her answer for a second, and then she shrugged. "The only nerve impulses we were able to find seemed linked to autonomic functions such as breathing and passive organ function. We were starting to think it was brain dead."

_Yeah, pretty much,_ Karkat commented, all dry and casual except not, not at all. John suddenly felt nauseous.

_But you said he was alive! You wanted to know if he was still alive -_

_He is. Still breathing isn't he?_

_That doesn't mean alive! You can keep a corpse breathing forever with the right equipment!_

"Mister Egbert? Is there something wrong?"

John looked at the doctors, mouth open and unable to figure out what to say. _(I know I know fuck you I know he's as good as)_ quietly ran nonstop in the background, wound up in a ribbon of grief-loss-self-hatred-grief.

"He. Uh." He closed his mouth. Opened it again. "It's. Normal? I mean. Karkat already knew? But how, I mean, he said he was alive-"

_(dad dad daddaddad.) it's how mechs work stupid there can't be two brains in one body, there can't, that's all there's left instincts and basic bullshit and maybe some memories. (wrappedaround sillychild tinypunymine tooredinside hidethechildhideit) just some stupid memories floating around with no fucking context they don't even last long wisps on the wind and then all gone (all gone, dad notyetplease no-)_

"John," Rose said, voice all gentle, and John didn't get why until she touched his face and he realized it was wet. Oh. "Are you okay?"

"... Yeah. Yeah."

"Is Karkat okay?"

He didn't even need to check. "No."

All the way across the room Karkat snarled, fangs bared. _Fuck you shut up shut your fucking word trap!_ His eyes were dry, John wasn't sure how because inside he still felt like howling. _Just __**tell**__ them, I bargained for this won't break the fucking deal now!_

"No, _you _shut up!" John snapped back, one hand wiping furiously at his face. "You - how - we can take a break if you-"

"_No!_"

Karkat took a step forward that managed to drag the two adults with him. Noir's face tightened, narrow eyes gone to slits, shoulders tensing. Mr. Strider threw Noir a sharp quelling glance, leaned in, whispered something in Karkat's ear. John didn't have enough access to overhear, not that Karkat seemed to understand the words anyway. The tone was clear. Calm _down_ already, shush, it's fine, it's all fine, breathe.

Karkat breathed. Mr. Strider rested his free hand on top of his head, gave him a little shake, a pat. "There. Good. Egbert, report."

"... It's - it's how biomechs work, there can't be two active brains, so they." It hurt in his throat, too tight. "So they kill it. The mech, I mean. The forebrain. Bam, it's more convenient like that."

"And since when do you give a flying shit," Noir rasped out, "with the length of your kill list."

John stared at him for a few long seconds, wordless. "It's." _It's his dad_, he wanted to say, but that didn't make any sense. "He - knew it? Him. Before he was a mech. He loved him."

Rose's brow furrowed. "Karkat loved the mech, or the mech loved Karkat?"

"... Both?"

"How _are _biomechs made, then?"

John couldn't help wondering as well, and for a second or two it was just a question, and after that he knew. He knew with all the horrible immediacy of seeing it happen, screeching, worried dadmonster in white, not that big really maybe twice as himself, dragged away by, by black _things_ full of spikes and a huge vat come this way soldier better view over there. Gurgling things in there gushing out from spigots and tubes and things, splattering him(dad), oh no it won't drown look it's starting.

Tissues dissolving and being reshaped, from dad-white to space-black and in between there was this ... mushy soup of flesh and exoskeleton and exposed raw nerves, and of course it feels everything from start to finish if it didn't that would mean conversion failed haha but what does it matter they're not people just beasts sure they're useful early on but by this point it has outlived all other sorts of usefulness anyway. It'll be done soon enough. Another three days.

He could smell it, acrid chemicals and raw meat, clogging his nose, sliding down his throat. He bolted from his chair, grabbed the nearest trash can. Oh hey, there was his breakfast. Hi there, morning bacon. _Shit_. Shit, fuck, hell, he was crying again, Karkat was making him into a real fountain, that had to stop already.

"Aw, man." He took in a shuddery breath. Rose was holding out a couple of Kleenex. He wiped his mouth, blew his nose. "Crap, that's _horrible_."

Karkat's eyes were almost closed, his face turned away toward the glass. John wasn't sure if he could see his - his - the biomech from there, but he looked so...

"That was quite the violent reaction."

John blew his nose again, accepted a bottle of water from Doctor King to rinse his mouth. How the hell did he put that into words?

"It's not that it's gross, Dave showed me worse, it's - they threw his - his... companion animal? Protector? Creature? They threw it in a vat with some other shit, like nutrients and - genetic reconstruction stuff? And just let it all dissolve together, and then it made kind of like a cocoon, I don't know, it's gross, but that's not it - it was, they didn't care it was in pain, they didn't care Karkat loved it, I mean they didn't even bother with painkillers or anything and it was all, all raw nerves floating in this puddle of fleshy bits and they pretty much killed it, only it kept breathing afterwards."

He couldn't convey the emotional impact, couldn't explain - "dad" couldn't be the right word, but that was what it kept coming up as; even when he tried his best not to reword what Karkat sent, the feeling was the same, the associations - his father's tobacco scent and a callused hand on his shoulder, showing him how to hold a spatula, how to make a fist - feeling safe and shielded and like this was his _place_, where he belonged.

_... John. Take your headband off._

_What?_

_Take it off because I can't take mine off and **get the fuck over it**. I can't take your fucking thoughts right now, just can't, can't keep you out stop it stop judging (stop feeling sorry stop thinking about it-)_

_Shut up yourself. When we're out of here I'm gonna hug you until your lungs come out and you can't stop me._ But he pulled the headband off anyway.

"John?"

"Just need a breather." He drifted back to the window, looked down at the black mech sprawled out there, shell dull in a way that absorbed all light, gave nothing back. When he squinted, the restraints seemed draped over a patch of outer space.

He remembered it white, and only two or three times as high as himself, and wrapping its big pincers around him to bring him closer to an armored chest, curling over so it could skree a threat at some random enemy with delusions of ever getting to the boy underneath.

"... So," he said, less for the doctors than in an attempt to push the emotions back down, "that telepathic goop in the cockpit is pretty much pureed beast forebrain. Nothing but floating neurons and neurotransmitters and stuff."

"We did manage to figure out that much," Doctor King said, voice oddly gentle, as he came up to stand beside him.

"Haha. I'm never going to feel clean again!" John proclaimed brightly. "Just saying."

"Heh." A pause. "Do you have a theory as to how the pilot communicates with the mech?"

"Horns?" John suggested. "They're kinda telepathy receivers. Though I don't have any and I could still communicate, even with Jade. I guess there's probably some kind of telepathy radiation in the goop that's at least long enough to get through the skull. ... Ick."

"Slap some ten-syllable words on it and that's our current working theory."

"I don't think Karkat knows much more, I mean, most people don't know exactly how their eyeballs change light into images, they just know they do."

The doctor must have had questions to ask, a ton of them, but he didn't push John, just let him look his fill and waited.

Eventually John nodded, flicked him a little apologetic smile, and drifted back to Karkat and his guards, who were still holding him tight. His shoulders had to hurt by now, and his hands. John lifted up the headset in his hand, make a questioning noise.

"Yes, yes." Karkat grumbled under his breath, rolled blood-red eyes at him, all 'oh god John why so ridiculous'. John grinned back, plopped it back on.

_Hey there._

_... hey. Long time no see it's been at least five whole minutes wow._

_Like you didn't miss me like crazy. Admit it it was like a wound on your soul!_

_Oh yeah of course my very own brain alien it's like your own personal intestinal parasite companion the day's just not complete without a good bout of enthusiastic splattery diarrhea._

"Pff. Stupid."

Karkat's eyes narrowed. "No, _you_."

John stared, widening his eyes and letting his mouth fall open in a perfect O of surprise. "... Was that... your first complete sort-of-sentence? My baby is all grown up! He's like... a toddler now! D'aww." And then he ruffled Karkat's bangs, because hah, so there.

Karkat gave a grumpy, halfhearted growl of a word. Mr. Strider snorted quietly. "If you two are done flirting... Not that I care but I'm kind of at point blank range there."

John didn't know who started blushing first, him or Karkat, but his cheeks were blotchy pink and Karkat's a dusky red in very short order. They both turned to stare at Strider, start identical "What no we weren't!" tirades; Karkat's was in his alien language of snarls and whistles, of course, but the meaning was pretty clear.

"Uh huh. Yeah. I'm buying it. Blowing my whole fortune on stocks, man I'm gonna be rich."

"Bluh bluh you sound like Dave, stop it."

"Oh no, not _Dave_," Mr. Strider deadpanned, "that's horrible, my life is over."

"How 'bout you cut the bullshit and go back to that schedule you assholes kept yammering about?" Noir said. "I'm this close to puncturing my own fucking eardrums here."

Mr. Strider's Southern drawl went from casual to molasses. "Aw, _snookums_, are we _boring_ you."

Noir leaned in a bit behind Karkat and hissed, "Knife. Hilt. Deep. In your. _Kidneys_."

_Maybe they should stop flirting too holy shit I am **not** alright with being trapped in the middle here!_

"Gurgh." What the heck were with those visuals. "Karkat. Karkat no. Just no." John made an anguished face to convey exactly how many worlds of no. How many universes. _Oh god putting that thought in my head I will never sleep again so wrong so wrong. the wrongest._

And now Rose was laughing. Great, just great. John gave up.

_Like hell you do. Okay this is so fucking awkward if they allowed me to get away from all that eyefucking buzzing past right behind my horns I'd go drown myself in the toilet I swear to fuck. Quick find them a distraction go back on track science stuff I'll even answer free unsciency questions._ He was only half-joking, too. It was a good suggestion, though!

_Holding you to that_, John threw back, and then clapped his hands together. "Okay! Doctor King. Doctor, uh, what's your name, ma'am?"

She laughed quietly, wrinkles crinkling. "It's Zheng."

"Alright! Karkat and I are fully ready to answer your most boring, most detailed questions. Even if most of them will get answers that amount to pretty much 'I don't have the first clue!' I hope that's okay."

He went back to his chair and his papers; the questions started back up. Karkat had relaxed somewhat, maybe helped by how Noir and Mr. Strider had decided that they were tired of standing there and had turned him around so they could prop their asses on the table, which meant now he couldn't see outside anymore. He stood there with his eyes half-closed, thoughts all professional and weirdly calm. Though from time to time amidst the diagrams and the sensory information on things like the texture of some necessary sealant for the broken spike-tips, there would be a pinch of emotion. John tried his best to pretend he didn't notice them, but they both knew it came clear through, and Karkat found it quietly mortifying.

There were some things that stubbornly refused to translate. Quantities, especially, or cellular or molecular structure. It didn't matter how clearly Karkat could conceptualize them, it just wasn't John's thing and kept returning big blank _beep! format incompatible, data unreadable!_ at him. He used to like biology when he was younger and could afford to follow normal school stuff, but what did he need it, he was a mech pilot! Now he was really regretting cutting it out of his schedule. Though really the issue was probably that Karkat's people didn't visualize their molecular graphs the same way.

"Argh. I wish you guys had asked Jade instead, she's all over the place, it's like she sees the word science and it's good enough for her to grab, I'm sure she'd have gotten it." He sighed. "I'm sorry, it just won't come through. Anyone else wanna try it?" _Karkat, do you mind?_

_... did you just seriously ask me if you could dump someone else in my brain to rummage for answers? Is that really a thing you did? Oh god yes please mindrape me more, go get a third headset for a nice relaxing gangbang maybe?_

He sounded more weary than scared or angry, but John winced anyway. _Ack, sorry didn't think. Not even if we told them it's a conversation okay not an interrogation you do not get to push like a pushy thing?_

_(like a John you mean?) Oh fuck it why the hell not, you're so frustratingly dense sometimes. __(brain like that breakfast disk, bounce things off it all day long and at the end it's still __**hehe what **__with a grin on its entirely untouched face.)_

_Haha, I'm gonna tell Jane you're dissing her pancakes. She works so hard at making the faces pretty._

_Why so it's more satisfying to bite their eyes off? huh I can see that it sure would work for me._

Alas, no pancakes for the alien, not while they still weren't sure what he could eat without getting sick.

John chuckled. "Karkat's okay with it," he said, pretty much at the same time as Rose said, "I'm sorry, no."

"What, why?" He stared at her, baffled. "But there's all that stuff I just don't get, Rose, it doesn't even make it through!"

"Then it'll have to wait until he has a better command of English. John..."

Okay - okay, what was that expression about. Embarrassed? Sad. Somewhere in between. He kept staring at her for a few seconds, baffled, and then turned to Mr. Strider, to see if he'd have an explanation to that blaring subtext he was having trouble reading. The man had gone unreadable all over, but then that was his default state.

Noir had one eyebrow up, like something very interesting had just happened. He whistled between his teeth, stared at John with an expression half-vindicated and half-irritated somehow.

"_What?_" John growled.

"Well, hell, you _are _compromised. Here people were telling me it was just your bleeding-heart case of stupid and my paranoia."

"_Noir_," Mr. Strider snapped, but not like he thought John had been insulted. More like...

More like Dirk had when Jake let it slip to Jade about that surprise party, kind of. Irritated, weary, but... What the heck?

He glanced at Karkat, eyebrows furrowed, thoughts sparking across faster than he could have ever worded them. _What'd I say that sounded compromised?(what? what? saying i'm what? stupidtricked/infoleak? betrayeroflovedones? planetkiller? so ridiculous not even __**funny**__-)_

"_Strider, headset_."

Just like that Karkat was gone from his head, no more vague buzz of awareness, no more faint traces of sensory echo, his answer never coalescing past a sudden burst of unease.

Mr. Strider was holding the headset, face still unreadable. No words forthcoming. John turned, stared at Rose. She didn't look back at him. She was staring at Noir instead, her eyes narrowed into slits.

"Rose, what-"

"Not _now_, John. Doctor King, Doctor Zheng, Doctor Millebert, thank you for your forbearance. We'll schedule a second meeting at a later date."

John would have bought her politeness more if she'd even _looked _at the doctors, but no, still glaring death at Noir. She twitched her chin toward the door; the man gave a fake-obedient, sarcastic little nod, and directed his men to fan out, that they were leaving. John opened his mouth and closed it a couple of times. What? Whaaat?

"We're _leaving_, John. Come along."

He sputtered. Karkat was being herded out by Noir and Mr. Strider; the unnerved look he sneaked John under his bangs jarred him back into movement and he caught up at a quick jog, snaking past one of Noir's men so he'd be next through the door. "Since when are you my mom?"

The corridor was wide enough that he could pass the trio of men and prisoner without bumping into anyone. He was tempted to bump into Mr. Strider anyway, that asshole, but while the man might have gone into robot-mode that didn't mean he wouldn't take revenge for that one later. It was so confusing keeping track of the limits between 'you're adults, decide this on your own, I'm your trainer, not your boss, and this is not my jurisdiction' and 'respect your elders, punk, I knew you when you were in diapers and I can still spank you if you sass me.' John knew their collective parents wanted the eight of them to think independently and make their own decisions as a collective unit, not be brainwashed into obedient soldiers who'd never question their superiors, but the transition could be hell. At the moment the balance of power hung clearly on the side of Rose as team leader and Strider as her silent, not-my-place-to-have-opinions right-hand-man.

He caught up to her just as she was shoving the door to the outside open. She was walking _fast_; keeping up borderline forced him to jog, and his legs were longer. "Rose, why are we just barging out of here like what, we weren't even close to done! What's that bullshit about-"

She flinched, flashed him oddly pained lavender eyes. Noir snorted.

"He still hasn't cottoned on. How do you still figure he's not?"

John was getting angrier by the minute, but he was too baffled to know what to do with it, who to aim it at, and Rose turned on her heel first, glared at Noir, opened her mouth, and he was so sure she was going to lay into him, and defend John from that stupid-

"Do give that molehill its time to bask in the rarefied heights of your paranoia. It isn't anywhere near deserving that word bandied about, and you know it."

... Huh. What?

"And may I know what you were hoping to accomplish by starting this conversation right around civilians? But wait, allow me to make a guess, you were hoping to start a rumor about John's incompetence, trying to undermine him-"

"If by undermining you mean not allowing him back into a machine of death that's unmatched on Earth save by _seven_ of his _childhood _fucking _girlfriends_ until he's deprogrammed then _fuck yes_."

Rose actually honest to god gritted her teeth. "Oh please, as if Skaianet has no competent shrinks of its own to make actual assessments."

The man curled his upper lip, disdainful, but there was a satisfied smile ghosting at the edge of his mouth that had John clenching his fists until it hurt with the urge to plant them in his face. "Oh, please," Noir mimicked, "like you won't cover for him when push comes to shove."

Rose iced over almost from one second to the next, hot anger replaced with the emptiness of space. "When Earth is at stake? I suggest you rethink that statement, Mr. Noir. I suggest you rethink it _very fast_."

"Thought you didn't want to have this conversation in public," Strider interrupted, giving a pointed look at the buildings on both sides of the alley.

They weren't talking loudly but there were a couple of open windows in the medical building and who knew who was listening up there, and also what the hell compromised? What had John done different from yesterday? Was treating Karkat like a human bein- uh, a _sentient_ one some proof of upcoming betrayal? If that was all they were basing themselves on then the analysts could go to hell because he wasn't changing a single thing.

Rose turned on her heels and led them up the alley, around the medical building and not through it. John followed, stewing in silence. None of the people present would say anything, but Noir's guards kept stealing glances at him, pretty much the same way they kept watch on Karkat, like no matter how docile he acted like he was dangerous and liable to turn on them at a moment's notice. And that was just...

It hurt. He didn't get along with Noir (hah, nice little bit of understatement there) and he thought his security guards were annoyingly underfoot sometimes and humorless robots all the time but they were all on the side of humanity first, on the side of _protect the civilians_ _at all costs_, but now he - but...

(If Rose didn't think Jack Noir was at least a little right she would have set him straight right there in front of the doctors. She wouldn't have said _a molehill_, implying there was still something.)

(Compromised. What the heck did that even mean?)

(what had Karkat been feeling uneasy about?)

The trip through the courtyard was quiet, apart from the occasional booted foot scuffing packed earth, the random bird call. It was jarring when, reaching the door, Mr. Strider called his name.

Rose unlocked the front door and walked in; John stopped on the front step, reluctant to turn around. "... What?"

"Your turn." He nudged the alien toward him; Karkat stumbled a little bit. Not a lot because Noir was still holding on, and glowering. Strider tilted his head down, like he was giving his hand a pointed look through his glasses. "... Take over first, Princess won't feel safe otherwise."

Karkat was looking up at him, face all tense, almost grim. Didn't try to communicate, though, no expression, no attempt to speak.

Probably wondering why they didn't keep walking, if they were going to try to keep him before he passed back into pilot territory. (Was he wondering if John would let that happen after all?)

John stepped back down, stepped around him, made a show of catching both arms over the elbows. He didn't speak to Noir, just threw him as cold a look as he could.

Noir arched an eyebrow, doubtful or maybe unimpressed or probably both. "What's your problem, Egbert, you're the only one allowed to manhandle your boyfriend? Hasn't got a bruise on it."

"_Stop calling him it_," John said, or maybe he was rasping it, it was too quiet for a growl, and it would be so easy to just free Karkat and turn and -

Strider's hand landed on his shoulder, heavy. He shoved. John bumped into Karkat's back, who was pushed forward and tripped on the front step with a startled hsst! noise. "Hey!" John protested, but when he turned to look Strider wasn't looking at him, his head was turned to look at Noir head on, and his gloved hand tapped a tense, anticipatory little rhythm against his thigh.

"You go on ahead, kid. Got things to liaise about with my government counterpart."

... Well. John still would rather kick Noir's ass himself, but apparently Mr. Strider planned on taking care of that.

With an irritated little sniff, John turned away and nudged Karkat farther in, so the door could woosh closed behind him. Rose was waiting at the bottom of the stairs, but that was all the acknowledgement she gave. She wasn't looking at John and Karkat and the second they were walking toward her she started climbing. John gritted his teeth.

"... Zhann?" Karkat whispered to him over his shoulder.

John realized he was still marching the other boy up the stairs like a convict and let go all at once. "Crap, sorry."

Karkat didn't look satisfied. He turned a little more as he climbed the stairs, frowning at him in between a furtive, confused look back at the entrance and one at Rose. "Zhann - what?"

Hah. John didn't know where to start. He didn't even _want _to start. He stared ahead, up into the stairwell, watching Rose's legs disappear on the landing, put his hand in the middle of Karkat's back and pushed.

Karkat didn't try to speak with him again, all tense under his hand, shoulders hunched. John tried to feel bad, but he was too angry.

They walked in the common room and the door closed and locked behind them. Jade was at the table, having dinner, though she'd stopped with her fork halfway to her mouth to eyeball them. John frowned; he'd rather have been alone for that coming discussion, or at least keep to the other end of the room, but Rose was over there already, dumping the folder on the other end of the table and going to rummage through a cupboard.

She threw something silvery on the table; it slid along until John could catch it. Keys. He turned to Karkat, made a little twirling motion. Karkat obeyed without a word. John unlocked his wrists. He threw the handcuffs back across the table, for Rose to pick up.

They stared at each other.

"Um - guys?"

"Please don't get involved, Jade," Rose ordered in her oh so calm, classier than thou voice that got John's hackles up.

"Yeah, don't say a thing or she might yank your clearance too!"

Rose's eyelids twitched minutely. John glowered at her, chin lifted in challenge. Karkat stood two steps to the side, rubbing his wrists and looking from one to the other and looking all awkward and uneasy, but John didn't have any time to spare to tell him where to sit or that he could goddamn well sit wherever he wanted to sit, or even not sit at all, that'd be fine too.

"John," she said around an irritated sigh, "you're overreacting. I don't think you're-"

"Yes you do, at least some, or else you'd have set him straight! You pretty much agreed with him, it was just the wording you didn't like."

"If you'll just _calm down_ and be rational-"

"I'm plenty calm, okay!" He turned to Jade, incredulous, frustrated. "Jade, can you believe she agrees with Noir on this? That asshole says I'm _compromised_, and she _agrees!_"

Jade went "um" and dove into her glass of water, like she actually needed all her concentration for it. John stared, breathless.

Jade... agreed too. They'd been talking about it, and Jade agreed. Who else? Was everyone - did everyone agree?

And no one had told him? Hah. Heh. Of course not, of course they wouldn't, if they thought he'd betray them of course they wouldn't warn him that they knew. Haha. Funny. Yeah. Hilarious.

"Why don't you just tell me," he said, voice strangely calm, "what the heck I did that has everyone up in arms, anyway?"

Rose sighed like she found his slowness tiresome. "You offered Doctor King the use of the telepathic headset."

Hrrn. "Yes, _and?_"

"Doctor King is the head of his department. His mind is full of classified information."

- oh.

Oh. Right. Alright, that had been dumb of him, wow. But distracted meant compromised now? "Okay, so that slipped my mind -"

"It _slipped your mind_," Rose repeated, slow and incredulous. "And you don't see why that's worrying at all? No, John, I'm talking." John snapped his mouth shut, face reddening. "In addition to data mining, there's a theory out here, which Noir obviously subscribes to, that the alien can _hook _people, or in other words _addict them_. You offered him Doctor King on a platter, that was suspicious enough. I'm willing to accept that he doesn't feel dangerous to you so you weren't worried he might present a danger for others-"

He couldn't hold it in anymore. "I would _know_ if he was planning anything bad!" he shouted, throwing his hands in the air in sheer frustration. "I'm in his goddamned head!"

"And who told you he couldn't lie mind to mind? Would that perhaps be the very same person who might benefit from lying to you?"

"Oh, don't start it, you have no idea how that feels, how it works, there's no way!"

"No, I don't," she agreed. "That's not even the main thing to me," she said right over him. "It's just that it's not the only thing that keeps _slipping your mind_."

He bristled. "Go ahead, call me an idiot!"

Rose took in a big, slow breath, look how _patient _I am when you're acting like such a _child_. "I am not saying you are _dumb_, John, I am saying you operate on instinct, and while that makes you a very versatile fighter and a great field leader, it does _not_ help when your instincts have apparently gotten stuck on Karkat Good, People Mean to Karkat Bad!" Another breath; her face did that weird thing where it didn't relax so much as slowly ooze back into an expressionless marble mask. "He _eviscerated_ guards. You winced for a grand total of approximately two minutes and then immediately returned to treating him like those claws were decoration. He clawed through your cockpit that one time and you almost died asphyxiated. You are not holding a grudge. He-"

John slammed his hand on the table, which groaned under the impact. Solid oak, though; it didn't splinter. "It's war!" he howled. How could she not _get _this? "He didn't do it like the one who -"

"It's _you_. You don't hold a grudge about what he did to _you_, that's fine, it's just like you, but he almost got _Jade _too and you don't even mind that either."

He sputtered. Was she accusing him of not caring about his cousinsib now? Really? "I told you it's war, it isn't personal - tell her, Jade!"

Jade lifted her hands like she was surrendering, palms out, wincing. "Well, uh, I'm not holding a grudge either, I mean, I was trying to kill him right back."

"See? She gets it!"

"Yes, all very nice and logical," Rose started in her measured, calm voice, and John fucking _hated it_, "and since _when_ are you that rational about any of us? The only person you get more overprotective over is Jane, and this morning unless Jane was waved under your nose you were more concerned for _Karkat._"

John's fists were clenched so hard it hurt, nails digging little bloody half-moons into his palms. Rose leaned over the table, mirroring him, fists planted, meticulously painted lip curling in a snarl.

"You keep having secret discussions and in-jokes and _forgetting he is not your friend._ Are you even _fucking aware _of how long it's been since the last time you cried?"

(He did. Eight months. Jane. Janey-Jane she won't stop screaming dad she won't stop what do we do, what do we do.)

(And now Karkat and his monster-dad mech, his horrific undead memento that he still needed to save even when it had been too late from the start.)

"You are treating him like a puppy you just found abandoned on the side of the road - he wasn't abandoned, he was on a mission to kill us! You've known him thirteen days and for ten of them he was under lock and key and catatonic, and don't you think that is even slightly suspect?"

He straightened up slowly, slipped his fists off the table. They were shaking. He clenched them harder. "...So then why don't you just, just stop letting him at my brain and lock him up somewhere and lock me up somewhere _else_ and wait until that magical time where you read my brain in a non-hooking way and can somehow tell I'm better. Or maybe never, that'd work too, right?"

"It would work if the goal was to alienate you and make you cling even harder to him as a result because you thought you had no one else," Rose snapped back.

"Yeah well guess what, it's working anyway!"

His chest heaved; he breathed in, tried to regulate his breathing rate. Rose was staring at him with eyes bright and sharp like broken glass, full of edges. (He'd put the break in there, good job, John, good job, he'd put in the wet glimmer too.)

Jade stretched out across the table to punch him in the shoulder. "What the _fuck_, John?" She turned to Rose, hands fluttering nervously. "Oh, no, it's okay, we'll just-"

Yeah. Okay. Made things pretty clear there.

"I'm done," he said. He turned away, then thought better of it and turned back to snatch up the headsets from the abandoned folder. "_Karkat!_" he snapped as he stalked toward the door. "Come with me. I'm still responsible for him, right, it's still a thing that's true right now? Okay, good, later."

The alien didn't move fast enough, so John snatched up his wrist in passing and towed him to the door.

He let him go once they were in the staircase, going up instead of down, stomp and stomp and stomp and he wished he had something to fight, he wished he would be allowed to spar or at least train but Strider would be too busy to spot him and in this state of mind he'd probably break equipment or hurt himself, he wished he could just go running around the island, down to the beach and then back up, go rock-hopping on the cliffs.

He couldn't, not with Karkat in tow, he was locked inside this one single building, it wasn't even that he was grounded in the most literal sense - god he missed flying, missed the sky, the weightless immensity of space - but he felt like just as much of a prisoner, jailer and jailee, and apparently he wasn't even entirely off.

The roof terrace was empty, only a few plastic benches and tables pushed in the corners, garden stuff, gone dark with rain. He turned his back on the medical wing, the other barracks and hangars and whatever else that had grown like poisonous mushrooms ever since they started fighting that war. The other side of the building... used to be the forest almost reached the walls - oh the adventures to be had in there - only they'd cleared that right up to the slope, put in garages and asphalt, a landing strip.

If he sat down at the bench, leaned his back against the table, allowed the waist-high wall to block the view, it was nothing but lush tropical leaves going up and up and up the hill, and the volcano caldera rising all in naked rock from there, and if his eyes kept going up it was nothing but blue and more blue and only a few wisps of floating white.

"Zhann."

John closed his eyes. Karkat was standing at his side, a couple of steps back, out of immediate arm's reach, and he didn't want to deal with him right now. He didn't want to deal with anyone.

Not much of a choice. He sighed, patted the bench at his side. "C'mon, sit with me."

Karkat frowned at him, but sat, straddling the bench to face him. He pointed at the headsets that John was still holding, chin set in challenge. John sighed and handed him one, went about putting on the second.

He didn't try to send anything, just sat there, trying not to think. Karkat's mind prodded at his, more to see if he'd move than trying to get in.

_It's fine go ahead. (I don't even care by this point look at whatever you want.)_

He closed his eyes, shifted lower into his seat, let his head flop back. Karkat shared a burst of nerves-tinged image, two seconds of video with feelings, John limp and giving-up and throat bared stop it wrong.

_So stop looking. I don't even care right now what are you going to do, bite me?_

Irritated growl. _Kick you in the face if you keep woeisme. _

"Heh." He waited a second. _Okay, get on with it._

Karkat grumbled under his breath, but... oh, he could feel him tiptoe through his mind, not literally but in the way random thoughts and memories would resurface for half a second, when his own train of thought hadn't been going that way, when they didn't belong to the same chain, in the way he would get echoes back of his own memories tinged with someone else's emotions, opinions.

It was... it didn't hurt. Probably Karkat wasn't forcing it.

_You're a clumsy big-footed jackass is why, daintily trampling across my delicate brainmeats with your spikiest army boots._ But it wasn't even that irritated, maybe reflexive grumping, maybe rueful.

(_Compromised_, whispered his mind, and it sounded like Noir and like Rose and like Doctor King suddenly horrified and Jade drawing away, all his friends drawing away because he wasn't safe anymore, because apparently he'd chosen a side without even knowing there were sides to be chosen at all.)

_She's right you know._

"-What?"

_It's not normal not right caring so fast so much. She's right. They're right._

John could only stare in blank disbelief, and couldn't manage to feel a single thing. _You hooked me?_

Karkat growled under his breath and kicked his ankle, halfhearted. _Not on purpose stupid. I'm not a psychic you're not a psychic not meant to meet this way surprise sometimes shit happens._

_... but, what? what? I don't, what?_

_One psychic two psychics they control how far they go sift what they get (net across a river only want fish not river mud urgh not tinyuseless fish either.) Not sifting means bam everything at once like it was yours and it's not yours, feels like it is but not yours, mine but you won't keep out (goddamn it John) and then you like me so it hurts. (why I don't get that) (no fuck I do emperor of pitiful wrecks is me yay all I ever wanted to be when I grew up a disaster area)_

_I still don't get a single fucking thing you're trying to explain what do you mean how?_

Karkat heaved a big sigh, crossed his arms. Embarrassment and shame trickled through. _Tele-empathic band, does what?_

_... let thoughts and feelings come through?_

_Let thoughts and feelings be thought and felt by other people **stupid dumb idiot moron**._

_Ow, ow, okay I'm an idiot it is me, idiot king, emperor even. So I feel what you're feeling and then what, think I'm you?_

Ow! Kicked again, and this time not halfheartedly. John drew his foot up, propped his heel on the edge of his seat, and rubbed it, glowering sulkily.

_Sympathy with people happens when you know what they go through and instead of going that guy is a whining whiner who whines I want to silence him with my fists give him something to cry about you think oh no that's horrible let me cradle you fight for you pet your hair shh there there._ A pointed, angry look. Karkat's cheeks were flushed a dark wine-red. _**What you did**__. (platonic how?)_

John spluttered. _I told you wasn't interested like that why can't sympathy be platonic damn it!_

Karkat gave him a grudging bit of acquiescence, but it was tainted with doubt. It came laced with _(not the topic at hand at the moment let's not get sidetracked no romance discussion)_, and John also happened to want to drop the topic (seriously what kind of fucked up culture was it when it was almost unheard of to save and help people just _because_, that it had to mean he wanted to get in their pants?), so in the end they had the mental equivalent of a mutual "hmph" and buried it, retreating to their respective skulls for a little bit.

So ... He was just feeling what he was feeling about Karkat because of the connection, then? No, that wasn't true, he'd have liked Karkat anyway, he was grumpy but smart and funny and he cared so much about everything, it was insane, how could you dislike a guy like that?

_Pretty easily if you see only the grumpy asshole bits. ... I'm not saying you wouldn't have liked me without, only it came too fast too hard and now it's like you've known me years and years, and you haven't._ Silence, for a second, his presence retreating like a wave from the sand, only to come back smaller and quieter and sadder somehow. _And also you're basing your opinion on stuff I would never have showed you willingly._

"... Ah."

So basically he was getting his compassion jollies as a result of forced mental contact that he might just as well come out and call mind rape. Nice going, John. Just... fucking nice going.

_And in the news tonight King Stupid mayor of Stupidtown is going for the martyr crown as well is nothing safe from his universal lustydevotion?_

John couldn't keep himself from laughing, a quick, startled bark of a laugh. _Uh what? _So many undertones in there, gone right over his head, he could feel them zip past, but the image of Karkat commenting mike in hand it evoked, yeah, that worked.

_Connection takes two people it's not one way and you're not trained it's like getting angry at a toddler for running with something and tripping bam broken big surprise there. _

_You're not trained either! Not a telepath yourself can't even defend yourself without can you?_

_Yeah but I know some tricks (helps when they're douchebags, those don't like pain I got a ton to share) and also some of it is my fault I should have remembered it could happen tried harder._

... Aw, damn it, why'd he have to think that stuff about having a ton of pain to share. The worst was that John could tell it wasn't even a conscious decision to mention it, it had just burst through because he honestly believed it. And now John was lingering on that and it embarrassed Karkat, made his fingers twitch with thoughts of taking off the helmet because it sounded like he was looking pitiful on purpose. Alright, change of topic.

_Remembered it could happen how?_

Karkat grimaced, blushed again. _Well it's not common or anything you have to have at least one pilot (for mech access duh) and one dumbass who gets in their cockpit with them (tight fit but no one would mind would they no no karkat no stop thinking about that oh hell) - Surprise the telepathic fluid is usually restricted! _

_... uh do people who sneak into cockpit usually. Like. Have **sex **in them?_

_What no! Disgusting holy fuck spooge all through the fluid how do you filter that out, breathing it in urgh urgh urgh!_

John straight up giggled. "Pfff. You're a prude, aren't you."

_Shut up stupid pervert dumb._

_Yes sir._

_... no they... mindmeld, nicesafeclose if you're already nicesafeclose with them then you can be **more**, understand all straight through down to the marrow of them, make or break the two of you but... oh hell just come and look._

Karkat's mind drew him in. John let his eyes close, because it was threatening to smother the images - hazy docking bay, indistinct mechs - it wasn't photography, John just knew they were mechs because Karkat knew, because he was aware of their steady, watchful presence even when he didn't look their way - and a tiny, tiny girl bouncing down a gangway and grinning at him so bright (_annoyance/affection, reluctant but real anyway he would fight for her if she needed him to._) She had short curly flyaway hair and her horns were easily the most solidly visualized thing about her, shaped like a cat's ears, and today she was also smug. As. Fuck.

'should try it Karkat so awesome feel soclose like nestled in lovemine's soul all warmpurrysafe!'

Karkat, shocked at their flagrant kinkiness, had replied something like, 'I like my soul standing lonely and bitter in the cold wind of get the fuck away from me,' but inside he thought of that other boy who he lovemissed torn away long gorgeous antelope horns such a useless wreck without Karkat they (assholes in charge) would never let them meet again, and he wished he could have felt him that way even once, and the double echo made John's eyes prickle.

_Shit sorry didn't mean showing the underlayer too. Just her and her kinky naughty funtime pride._

_It's okay._ He hesitated for a second, not sure he really wanted to know. But it was important to Karkat, part of his life, and it'd be ... it would be bad to pretend that part of him didn't exist. ..._What's his name?_

Karkat propped a heel on the bench so he could hug his knee to his chest. He did it casually enough, but John felt that need to hold and be held underneath. It wasn't for him, so he pretended he didn't.

"G'mzee."

"... Heh, that's a funny name."

_He's a funny guy. Been missing him for months and years though. (not that much farther out of reach just because I got stupidcapturedcaught, never would have seen him again anyway.)_

_... Why?_

John could feel the wall come up, once again, and then Karkat snorted, bitter, and let it go all at once, all the old exhausted rage of it and the hopelessness. _He's highclass I'm not, golddigging whore sullying him how 'bout a nice frontier post can't pollute him from there, he'll move on you'll die no one's fault! Couldn't refuse a posting after all not disgustingwrong gutter trash like you he'll have nothing to get angry about._ A sigh._ Stop ouching inside John it was a miracle already they didn't just put me down. Waste of a pilot I guess._

John shook his head slowly. _Your life is so completely shitty, buddy, I don't even get how you can walk out without being hit by a meteorite._

Karkat snorted, glanced up at the blue sky. _Could still happen._

"Heh." _... now I feel stupid for being so down (hurt) because they don't trust me (because it feels like they're saying you or them and I don't know if I can choose, you told me it's the telepathy made it that way but I don't want to choose I don't want to have to choose why can't I have both (why don't they trust me.))_

... Shit. Even _Jade_. Maybe even Jane, and she hadn't said anything, none of them - oh, yes they _had_, Dirk had tried, in the shower, but John hadn't been listening, of course not, what did he need to listen to any warnings. And then he'd snarled at Rose and stormed off like a dick with a lifelong love affair with dramatic exits - only whoops, turned out he was the one who was wrong and he'd just proved it to them.

_Life sucks, _John concluded. _I want to be back in space. Flying so free, so free, I miss that. It just feels right, you know?_

He got nothing but a buzz of depressed agreement, echoes of weightlessness, stolen moments of fun, of freedom.

You always had to land back down, though.

At the same time, with no conscious agreement, they pulled off their headsets, set them in their laps, and reclined against the table together, watching the empty sky.

* * *

**author notes, nov. 4:**

(and this counts for more than just this last anon, it's a trend I've seen growing and it's starting to get on my nerves.)

No, you ass, it has not been ZOMG SIX MONTHS since the last time i updated. AUGUST - SEPTEMBER - OCTOBER: wow, THREE months and *three days*, does time move twice as fast in the needy, entitled corner of the internet or what?

Even if it _had_ been SIX MONTHS ZOMG:  
-the biggest chapters are _thirty to forty pages long_ in Word, and surprise! there's actual long-reaching PLOT in it whose repercussions have to be plotted out in detail. Do you think I can barf out one a week? Do you think because you're not seeing a new chapter every week that it means i've been sitting on my ass doing nothing? Do you think I'm only allowed to work on this one project you like and not on anything I might feel like writing instead? Fuck you.  
-I have fanfics I update once a year or less. We can try that update schedule if you really insist.

I'll post more _when more is ready_ and if you nag me it'll only make me resent the fic for attracting whiny people who are trying to guilt trip me, and make me _not want to work on it_, does that sound smart to you?

In conclusion: DO NOT NAG ME ABOUT THE FIC'S UPDATE SCHEDULE. YOU WILL NOT LIKE THE RESULTS.

Either be happy that there's more when there's more and wait when there isn't, or stop waiting and read something else and forget about this fic. Nagging and whining and guilt tripping gets on my last fucking nerve. "I can't wait! :D" is fine, but "aww but when will you... it's been SO LONG (length of actual time irrelevant)" "is this fic abandoned? ;.;" = gets on my last fucking nerve. If I abandon the fic I'll tag it abandoned, in the meantime it's not, i'm still working on it, no i can't give you a date, no not even if you ask three times in a row with a teary eyed smiley (especially not then), don't ask.


	6. Chapter 6

In the last week John had started collecting objects he could afford to see brutally destroyed. Not for Karkat's weirdo nest, but to throw over the foot of his bed and wake him up when he was in the middle of a nightmare, before morning-zombie Dave decided to stumble out of bed and wake the alien up his own special way. They did not have enough towels on the whole island to sponge up that much blood.

(John had made the mistake of lobbing his own pillow exactly once. Jake and Dirk were still finding bits and pieces of memory foam in their sheets four days later.)

He heard things rustling brutally, saw a black mop of hair come up fast over the footboard. He waited a few seconds, squinting through his eyelashes, caught a glimpse of huge red eyes, irises blown wide enough to eclipse the yellow for barely a second before they started shrinking back. Okay; still shaken but awake enough. John flopped back on his mattress, face down, arms buried underneath his replacement pillow. (It really wasn't as good as the old one. It smelled musty.)

He wasn't going to fall back asleep, not with the alien gasping not-silently-enough for breath at the foot of his bed. But he wasn't getting up either; Dave would be up soon. John didn't want to cross paths in the bathroom. The heights of awkward reached by brushing teeth at neighboring sinks while not acknowledging each other in any way were reaching unreal altitudes - like they should be breaching the stratosphere already, but nope, still just enough oxygen to choke on.

A faint beep started, kept going for a minute, annoyingly regular even while muffled to the point John could barely hear it. Wasn't like there was anything else to listen to.

Dave eventually sighed and dragged himself over the guardrail, dropped to the floor. Stood there in silence for a handful of seconds. John kept his breathing regular and his face buried in his pillow. Nope, totally asleep.

Bare feet padded almost silently past his bed, cloth rustled its way out of a cupboard, the door opened and closed quietly. John kept pretending to be asleep, eyes stubbornly closed. Maybe if he pretended long enough it'd become true.

He could feel Karkat's own state of wakefulness without even looking, with something that went deeper than the five senses. It was just that kind of feeling where everyone in a room was still and quiet and it was too dark to check at a glance but somehow you could just _tell_ they were staring at the ceiling too. Maybe breathing patterns, who the heck knew.

Too many thoughts. That was annoying. He was bored...!

Something landed on his head with a soft plop. "-Hey!"

... Damn it, now he couldn't pretend to be asleep anymore. He pulled the worn-thin sole of an ancient tennis shoe off his head (it was now recently torn almost in two and the cloth top was missing a few chunks) and craned his head to glower half-heartedly at Karkat. The alien was sitting in his corner pretending to be interested in whatever random crap there was to see in the opposite corner at the foot of Dirk and Dave's bunk, though John caught him sneaking a quick glance his way. Grumbling, John crawled out of the blankets to sit on the edge of his mattress.

"I'm up, I'm up, princess, you can look, I'm not rubbing my nubile body all over a carnal platform of delights anymore."

Karkat likely didn't catch more than three words in the sentence, but what he muttered under his breath sounded sort of like "stupid." Someone had to tell Jade off about teaching an impressionable young man bad words.

Karkat threw a longer side look at John, eyebrows furrowed - it was that oh-so-common pinched Karkatian expression that looked like he was calculating the precise amount of headbutts it was going to take to knock some bothersome wall down and how much it was going to hurt and how much it needed to be done anyway, and that was oddly hilarious. So _serious_.

"Hmm?" John prompted, elbows on his thighs, rounding his back to crack his spine back into place. "What do you want?"

"Nrrr." A sigh.

Karkat pulled himself up on his feet, wandered out of his corner, though he still carefully avoided looking at John straight on. It was weird, some times he was totally in John's face and glaring and demanding things, and some times he was doing that weird careful 'let's not acknowledge each other _too _much because you might idk _frown at me_ or something' shy dance.

"Bathroom."

... Dave would still be there. Crap. "Can it wait?" John asked, sighing, and stretched his calves, bent over to grab his ankles until he felt the burn in his thighs, the back of his knees. He felt all creaky without his usual level of exercise. (Seriously, people were always surprised at what kind of shape you had to be in to pilot something that pulled so many Gs and demanded so much dexterity for several hours in a row.) He flopped backward on his bed, arms landing limply akimbo on the bunched-up blankets. "I don't want to get up yet."

A soft annoyed huff, silence. When he cracked an eye open Karkat was frowning down at him, hands on his hips. The old t-shirt he was wearing fit his strong shoulders fine but the ends hung low on his thighs, it looked too big anyway. Short torso. (Short legs too, heh. Okay, no, John was just tall.) John only saw the very edge of the shorts Karkat slept in.

"Zhann?"

He picked up his pillow and pressed it to his face. "Aw, nooo, don't wanna."

A quick, incredulous huff. "_Zhann_."

"Noooooo."

"Zhann bathroom come with me."

"Nope."

The next tirade, John translated in his head as 'I will piss on everything you own so help me John Egbert and it will be your fault.' He reluctantly peeked out from under the pillow and glowered, knowing full well that he looked childish and sulky and still going ahead with it.

Karkat looked incredulous and yet unsurprised for about three seconds, hands opening like he was considering grabbing him by the ankles and yanking him off his bed and it'd be nothing that wasn't well-deserved when he made a rough butt-landing - and then the alien sighed, shoulders slumping imperceptibly. Victory! Now John could stay in and... brood into his mattress. Yay.

While the guy he was supposed to babysit died of an exploded bladder.

"I am the worst pet owner, it is me," he mumbled, smothered in blankets, and pushed himself up with a heavy sigh.

When he straightened up, one hand scratching through his hair, he caught a quick glimpse of Karkat. He was standing all hunched and grabbing one elbow with his opposite hand, forearm across the stomach, like maybe if he only did it on one side he'd look less like he was hugging himself. Fuck.

He saw John looking and jerked into a more neutral position. For less than a second John wanted to reach out and touch his shoulder and say he was sorry and also an assbutt and of course they could go.

He reminded himself he only wanted to pet and soothe Karkat so much because of the telepathy thing, anyway, and just went to the cupboard and got two changes of clothes.

When they reached the bathroom, the sinks and toilet stalls were empty of Dave - good, some reprieve - and the shower running. John started brushing his teeth as Karkat disappeared into a stall, bracing himself for the brief awkward of his teammate brushing by on his way to the door without saying a word. Surely the guy would be done soon.

Karkat came out, washed his hands, and turned to him, head tilted in question. There was a little worried furrow between his eyebrows; he glanced at the shower room and then back at John pointedly, mouth pursing a little. Of course he'd picked up on the tension, days ago even. It was so thick it choked everything.

John just as pointedly ignored him to stare at his own reflection; he was shaving, okay, he needed to pay attention. Alright, so he had nothing much to shave yet at his age, especially not that needed shaving _every day_, but still.

When he was done shaving Dave was still in the shower, and he was out of excuses. Damn it.

Okay. Okay. It wasn't like they were going to argue or anything. They didn't have much to say to each other. It'd just be... um.

Okay, no, fuck that noise. None of the girls were around! John went to his locker, same as always, and got undressed and towel'd, same as always, and when Karkat started toward the shower room he caught his wrist and started towing him toward the other door.

"Anhg-"

"Shh!" John hissed, leaning in, one finger across his own lips. "Come with me. Quietly."

He was totally not being a wuss - and a totally transparent one at that - and he was _sure _Dave wouldn't figure it out and laugh forever about it. Nooo, totes wouldn't. Did John care?! _No_. He tiptoed back around the lockers to stay out of sight of the boys' showers, one hand on the towel tied around his waist and one around Karkat's wrist. Karkat followed in silence, but the look on his face could have been subtitled 'I Am Embarrassed To Even Be On The Same Planet As You.' John grimaced at him and slipped into the forbidden territory of the girls' shower room.

The setup was mirrored, with an identical bench running along the wall opposite the showers, only because they'd never gone through a phase of climbing everything (John, Jake, Dave) and breaking the hell out of it by horsing around (John, Jake) and braining themselves on the floor tiles falling off (John) the girls still got to have stalls. Karkat blinked at them, gave his wrist a pointed little shake - oops, John was still holding on; he let go - and went to peek inside one.

"Zhann?"

"Yeah?" John prompted - quietly - as he got himself some shampoo (Jade's this time; his luxurious mane was going to be _so _disentangled, baby) and chose another stall at random down the row.

"Here wash no why?"

Okay, that had come out confusing. Karkat had a crazy-good memory for words, even though he couldn't pronounce most of them quite right and paused in weird places as he hunted for the next piece of vocabulary, but the grammar tended to be a mangled mess. "Hm?" John prompted again.

Karkat grumbled at him, pointed toward the other shower room, then down at this one's floor, eyebrows scrunched in somewhat offended confusion.

"Girls' room, is why."

A vaguely baffled blink. Couldn't he ask questions and expand his knowledge when John wasn't trying to get a shower? Ah, whatever, it was fun some days. John pointed toward the wall standing between them and the other room, said, "John, Jake, Dirk, Dave, Bro," and then down at the floor of this one, "Jane, Jade, Rose, Roxy."

Still that baffled look.

John cupped sizeable, if sadly invisible boobs on his own bare chest, pointed down at the floor of the room, making a face. "Come on, what's the common point there?"

"... Zhann stupid dumb."

And he was still _frowning _at John, lips pursed, dissatisfied. Hn. "No, _you_," John replied, and disappeared in his stall.

Karkat muttered to himself in growlclicks and little huffs of breath as he locked himself away in his own. "Stupid dumb stupid bad no," he grumbled, barely audible over the noise of John's shower starting.

"No, Karkat is the one who's stupid stupid dumb," John replied intelligently, and started lathering himself up.

Scrub, scrub, scrub.

He had to admit it was much easier to concentrate on washing when he didn't have to make really sure he didn't accidentally show Karkat his dangly bits again, _without_ looking like that was what he was doing. Because being embarrassed by an awkward situation was already bad enough, but being _openly_ embarrassed was even more embarrassing.

(Also that way he couldn't get caught precisely at the wrong moment where his eyes strayed blindly over shit he wasn't even really looking at, seriously, that wasn't awkward at _all_.)

He had almost started to think he'd gambled and _won_ when someone walked in.

"Heya! Janey, izzat you?"

_Shit_. Um.

John turned the shower spray down a bit. "Urr. No? Sorry." He paused, hesitating to say more. "I ... thought all you girls were out or asleep or something."

Roxy didn't answer him; John's stomach sank a little. He busied himself propping a foot on the wall so he could wash down to his ankle and between his toes. Man, balancing on one foot sure demanded concentration!

God he missed talking to his friends.

Even if merely thinking about it made him a little sick to his stomach with the apologizing he had yet to do, and how much of an asshole move it would be to just start chatting again like nothing had happened and forego the apology entirely. He knew they'd probably go along with it, too.

"Uh, if you wanted to shower quick... we won't come out until you're done. Or you could wait a few minutes, we'll hurry up."

Wow, look at that, maybe he ought to trim his toenails.

Still no answer.

Maybe she'd left already and he just hadn't heard her move. Girl was stealthy as a ghost.

- Or maybe she'd just jumped to catch the top of his stall and peer in. "_Holy **shit **Roxy!_"

There she was, elbows comfortably hooked over the top of the stall door, blocking his way out with the weight of her body and leaving him just about nowhere to hide. He backed into the spray without thinking, and blinked furiously to clear his eyes of the water suddenly streaming across his face, hands welded to his crotch and suds everywhere.

"Nah," she said with a bright white grin, "you can take your time."

"Are you - wh - Roxy!"

She played with one of her curls absently, tugging and releasing it, still gazing down at him like he was a, a vaguely interesting _TV series _or who knew what the heck else, all thoughtful and lips pursed and _absolutely not looking away_. "Yuuup? Tha'ss my name, cowboy, don't wear it out."

John growled, cheeks heating up. "Cowboy what?! I'm gonna cowboy you right off the -" Okay, no, threats were not a good thing to do right now, not even playful ones. He breathed out, tried looking pitiful instead. "Okay no, but what the heck, seriously, will you get off the stupid door?" Attempt not extremely successful. "... Please?"

"Hmm."

John eyed the towel hanging from the door just under her. Somehow it felt too far away. "_Pretty _please?"

"Hmmmmmm..." She pursed her lips some more. "Nope!" John glowered at her. Roxy gave a little shrug and smiled, close-lipped. "See, actually I wanted to talk to you, and now you can't run away! Score for the amazing Ro-Lal."

"But I could hear you fine through the door! Do you need to _look_ at me while you're talking?"

"Nah, that's just a bonus." She waved it off, airy. "So anyway, you remember when we were like thirteen, fourteen or so?"

John blinked. Okay, where was she going with that. Roxy tended to make confusing swerves in conversations and in piloting both; he knew to be wary either way. "Yes?" he replied cautiously. "Uh, depends what, I mean, if it was about some shoes you had back then..."

"Noo, way more memorable than that. Like, the Great EmoLonde Period of 2049."

... ffff. John regretted that he needed to hide his genitals, because this would have been the ideal time for a lot of _'sorry, was distracted by scrubbing myself clean. What did you say? Nothing interesting, I'm sure. Whoops, look at that, a speck of dust on my abs.'_

"I mean not the _Goth_ period, that one's still going on, but the really cringe-worthy floppy-fringed one that didn't suit her at _all_?"

Gnn. Roxy was still chattering from atop the door, hand waving aimless in the air, eyes roving sightlessly over the stall like she didn't know exactly what she was saying.

"You remember, right? She had on raccoon-levels of makeup and there was that huge T-shirt she dyed black in the sink and it clogged the -"

"I remember!" John interrupted, and seriously considered turning his back on her, only then he'd be unveiling a lot of tush. And their flight suits might be _skin_tight, but they weren't _wedgie_-tight and he'd rather Roxy weren't able to measure his butt-crack at a glance thank you very much.

"It really didn't suit her at all, right! Man, everyone was _so_ happy when she, like, graduated to darque and spooky and she had on about three tons of smoky eyeshadow and everyone thought it actually worked better somehow?"

"Where are you even going with this!" John complained. Like he wanted to hear about Rose's fashion sense when he was naked in a shower stall! Or at any other time, actually. Mnrgh.

Roxy stared straight at him, eyebrows scrunching up and lips pursing in a supremely unimpressed, startlingly serious way. "I'm going to where the emo lifestyle didn't suit Rose much when she was thirteen, and it really doesn't suit her that much more now."

John flinched.

"I..."

Roxy tilted her head, gave a mild blink. "Hmm?"

"... Uh. I."

... Damn it. John slumped in his corner, shower controls digging into his side. Blah. He was aware of Roxy staring at him. He couldn't look up to meet her eyes, though. Damn it. Just damn it.

"Oh right! Jade should be back soon, gotta warn her there's naked boys in here!"

"Guh - that'd be nice?" John blurted out, jarred into looking up. Roxy winked at him.

"She'd be sooo sad she missed it. Not you, I mean, because ew cousincest, but we've got a bet riding on the cuteness of Karkat's butt. Laterbye!"

She dropped out of view, waving her hand, and even let John hear her ringing footsteps on her way out. He was barely done yelling her name in protest that she was already out of the locker room. Argh!

"Karkat! Hurry up go go go!" He turned the cold water back on, rinsed his hair perfunctorily and too bad if some shampoo was left to chill there, his hair was already untamable anyway and he didn't have any meetings with outsiders planned or a helmet to prevent him scratching for hours on end. Towel, quick rub, wrapped around his waist, and he yanked his door open and went to pound at Karkat's door. "Come on, hurry up!"

"What?" Karkat growled from inside.

"Hurry hurry hurry, she will, she totally will, they _both _will and then you'll be traumatized and it will be my fault for not better guarding the sanctity of your butt. Karkaaaat come on!"

"Hrrssst."

That, John had long since learned, was the 'I wish most dearly to bite you in the face, for you have trod upon my last nerve too heartily' noise. It was mostly a noise Karkat did when he wasn't going to go through with it, though.

"Karkat Karkat Karkat come out Karkat Karkaaat Kaaaaaarkat - ah, finally."

He received a baleful red glare; Karkat shouldered him out of the way as he stepped out of his stall, claws grabbing tight on his towel and hair still dripping. John hurried to catch up and pass him, skidding on the tiles, threw himself at his locker. Karkat's clothes went flying over his shoulder for the guy to catch; John dropped his own towel on the spot as the alien was still swearing, and jumped into his underwear. Quick, quick, pants t-shirt tennis shoes glasses, but were they safe yet?! He turned around, ready to scold Karkat if he wasn't done already.

He wasn't, but almost, squirming his way in his own t-shirt. There were funny rough spots on his waist that John did not remember - possibly other places too but the T-shirt finished falling into place and he couldn't really ask for a better look, that'd be way too weird. Maybe Karkat just felt itchy and had forgotten to mind the claws. Hm.

"... _Zhann_."

- Darn. "Okay! Come on, we're going to the common room." He opened the way before any attempt at a discussion might happen. Seriously it was crazy the number of times Karkat managed to catch him looking at things for perfectly innocent alienpal-caretaking reasons in ways that made them look like not.

Due to his shorter legs Karkat had to walk really fast to keep up with John's pace, but he did, just so he could glower straight at him, brow furrowed deep, looking irritated all over. "Zhann what."

John gave him his brightest, most obtuse grin. "I don't get what you're asking about, buddy!"

Karkat obligingly rephrased. "_Stupid dumb_, what."

"... Did you just call me stupid dumb. Like, my name is now stupid dumb to you. Is that what you just did."

Red eyes slowly, deliberately narrowed. "_Yes_." The tilt of his chin was 'got a problem with that' all over.

It would be really not fair to use one of the insults Karkat didn't know yet. John did feel stuck at about a toddler's level of maturity...

Helped keep him in relatively not-too-bad a mood though. It was just too silly not to. "No, _you_."

Karkat heaved out a loud sigh and rolled his eyes pointedly, started clicking away to himself. Blahblahblah John is a stupid dumb buttface, thousandth verse, same as the first. Well, at least he was distracted now.

Left John free to deliberately not think about all that shit he was trying not to think about. Like... oh... how his little hissyfit didn't get to keep being "just" a personal problem. He was affecting the morale of the group.

Their parents might let them muddle along for a while trying to sort it out themselves - they'd always raised them to be independent and work seamlessly as a unit, not to become tools for the government to order around without a word to say in the matter in case Skaialabs failed or was outmaneuvered or when they got old (or assassinated like Nanna had totally not been hehe what are you saying it was a regrettable accident look at this official inquiry saying so) - but if they didn't manage, it wouldn't be long now before John's dad dropped by for a long wise talk. John was already cringing.

And then if they didn't implement any actual solutions, the adults would.

What if they decided the root of the problem was Karkat, and removed him? Wouldn't that be good, John could go back to flying and fighting and doing what he'd been _made _for, what he loved, wouldn't it be, no, no, no it wouldn't, it really wouldn't.

_This is exactly why they think you're compromised,_ he reminded himself, breathing through the spike of - of, **_no damn it no_**. Surely, now that Skaialabs had proved they had the political upper hand, they could arrange some joint custody thing where Karkat's cell was big and nice and comfortable and he got to take walks outside and they didn't do any of the tests that hurt (_no, no, no, you selfish asshole, no_.)

"Zhann?"

"_No_ - ah. Sorry. What?" He blinked, turned. They were at the staircase, John down one step; Karkat had stopped still in the corridor. He was staring, irritated, horns forward like he planned to headbutt John in the chest.

"... Rrhoz."

John breathed out loud and slow through clenched teeth. "God _damn _it, not you too."

Karkat flung his hands in the air. "Yes come with me Rrhoz! Zhann n'rh '_weeeh, weeeh_.'" He faked a childish whine, turned it back into a snarl. "Dev no, Rokchi no - hrrghn!"

"Wow." John stared, breathless with rising rage. "Fuck you. You know what? Just fuck you."

He turned his back on him, because if he didn't he'd just do stuff that - Karkat couldn't hit back, couldn't _argue _back, that made it not fair but he - damn it, why him too, he'd been in John's head that day, why didn't he _get _it?!

And now he was growling behind John, low and animal and rising slow, a true threat. John stiffened his shoulders and started down the stairs, just fucking _daring _him to try.

"Zhann-"

"Just shut up and come on already."

Another low, vibrating growl, ending into a vicious snarl.

If this ended in a fight, the officials - no, to hell with that, if this ended in a fight then _good_. "Damn it, Karkat-"

"_Zhann!_" Karkat yelped. Claws raked the floor, noisy. John jerked around, only to see a big white shape lunging for a Karkat already halfway to the ceiling.

"Whoa - Bec, no, down!" He jumped up to the landing, tried to snatch the dog's collar, but the big mutt dodged, leapt for Karkat again who was... somehow not coming down.

John elbowed the dog aside as he jumped again; Bec landed easily on his paws, turned on him growling - the alien's scent on John, but enough of his own seemed to be coming through that Bec didn't attack John as well. After a couple of tries John managed to gather a big fistful of fur at the dog's neck and hauled him farther down the corridor.

Only then did he allow himself to glance over his shoulder.

Karkat had ditched his flip-flops on his way up. It wasn't hard to figure out how he was defying gravity, even without the series of holes in the plaster of the wall, right through to the cement underneath. All twenty of his fingers and toes were still stuck in the ceiling knuckle-deep, and he stared over his shoulder at John and the dog, the red part of his eyes so blown John could barely see any gold.

"Bec, sit! Sit."

Bec, of course, paid him exactly zero attention. There was an alien boy to snarl at!

"Whoa, guys! Bec, heel! John, let him go, it's okay."

Jade sounded so sure of herself that John did, despite himself. Bec snarled again and made to lunge, but Jade snapped a threatening "_Bec_" that had the dog turning around and making his sullen way to her side. She caught a grip on his collar and hauled him close. John straightened up, nodded. "Uh. Thanks. Hi, sir."

He couldn't help but stare. Hass Harley had been away "on business" ever since John crashed Karkat's monster-mech and Warhammer, by which John was never sure if people meant he truly did have a ton to do at the other end of the globe, or if they meant they were just not going to allow a guy with his level of clearance to even step foot on the same island as a so-called telepathingly-grabby alien.

But he didn't even have any bodyguards with him. (If one didn't count Jade and Bec. John did, but he couldn't imagine anyone not one of them doing it.)

"John, my boy! Long time no see. You might want to tell your guest he can come down before he brings the ceiling down with him."

"-Oh! Right." When he turned around, he saw a fine trail of plaster dust and small chunks sprinkling gently from spreading cracks in the ceiling. "Karkat? It's okay, come down." He reached a hand up, crooked his fingers. Karkat threw a long suspicious look down the corridor, and a little wincing glance down under him, neck craned. The movement was enough for another crack to form and a hand-sized chunk of plaster to fall on John. He batted it away from his head before it touched him, but... Urk. "Buddy, hurry up!"

With a wince, Karkat yanked his claws free and fell, managing to twist somehow to land in a crouch. He was a little off-balance and stumbled to the side, almost falling on his ass. Graceful! John chuckled and held out a hand to help him up. Karkat growled and batted it away, and almost fell on his ass a second time when he stepped on an unexpected chunk of plaster. Snickering, John offered his hand again, which this time was grabbed with a huffy little mutter.

He hauled Karkat to his feet. His gray forearms and legs were white with dust; his t-shirt wasn't much better; John batted some off Karkat's shoulder and the green slime monster on his chest and then realized he might be alien-feeling him up again considering the weird side-look Karkat was giving him. Um. Dang it, aliens were just too weird!

"Okay. So. Err. Did you want an introduction...?"

Feet planted, General Harley stared at Karkat for a handful of seconds. He looked a little bit like a wall, thought John, trying to see what Karkat saw. In his eighties, peppery hair steadily going white (somehow not falling all off, God and Doc Lalonde willing John would get the no-balding gene from him and not the balding one from Nanna's side that Dad was camouflaging under his hats) but shoulders still strong, back still straight; he was still in shape. The thing that aged him the most was the stupid fat, twirly-ended moustache, which hadn't been in fashion even when the General's _grandparents _still walked the Earth.

Of course, he was in uniform, even if the collar was undone and most medals absent.

"Be a right pleasure," the General said eventually, and took a jaunty step forward. Karkat's back went rigid, not that he showed it much on his face. John elbowed him lightly, winked to reassure him things were still cool, and snapped a salute.

"General Harley, sir!" he barked out, looking as humorless and drone-like as possible.

"Don't even, you little rascal, if we so much as tried to put you through Basic you would leave the base in shambles and with not a drop of good Army feeling in you."

"Pff." A grin. "Hi, Jade."

"Hi, John," she replied, and then made a grating, snap-clicking noise that had Bec's ear flip back doubtfully. Karkat's lip quirked minutely in what might perhaps in another dimension have become a smile; he replied in kind. John's back teeth vibrated a little.

"Anyway, Karkat, this is General Harley. Call him General. General."

"Dze-neral," Karkat repeated, enunciating cautiously, and bowed his head in salute, eyeing him warily from under his hair.

Jade nodded in approval, and said, "Grandpa, this is Kh'rkth." (Or something almost like that.)

Bec was still growling quietly. Karkat didn't inch back but John caught him throwing a glance like he was calculating how fast he could dodge behind John if need be. John shifted forward a little to make that easier. "Only we call him Karkat because no one but Jade can say it right and she'll walk away with scars on her vocal chords, mark my words."

The General's eyes brightened, his moustache flipping up and the severe line of his shoulders relaxing just enough that John noticed exactly how militarily perfect his stance had been. "You have been calling him... Car-cat."

Said Karkat was still standing too-straight like he wasn't quite sure whether to go for the full 'inspection' stance, eyebrows twitching minutely every time his name came up. John smiled. "Yup! Vroom vroom meow. Only we camouflage that with Ks because it's just too silly otherwise."

The moustache flipped a little farther up.

"And Bec drove him up the wall into the ceiling..."

"... Yeees?"

"So... would you say that he was a ... _ceiling kat_?"

John blinked. Jade tilted her head. "Um. Grandpa?"

"Hehehe. Never you mind this old fogey, kids." He patted Bec's head, eyes still crinkled up as he looked the alien up and down. "Well! I do believe you were on your way down to breakfast?"

"Yessir. Are you... uh. Coming with?"

"Hm. You know what, I do believe I will. For a little while, at least. Too much paperwork to indulge, alas."

Alright, John was a little surprised. He'd really assumed alien plus high command-

"Karkat, give me your hand," Jade said. She was holding out her hand, fingers wriggling. "Hand."

Karkat gave her a wary look, and a warier one at the dog she was holding with her other hand. Bec stared back, black lips curling half an inch up along glistening ivory fangs. "... Stupid no."

Jade pursed her lips. "Bec, sit. Stay. Karkat, hand."

Karkat muttered something under his breath that sounded like _Karkat sitstay hssst_, but reached out, reluctantly. Bec started growling.

Jade thwapped him on the nose. "No! Bad dog."

"Pff. Let me help." John pressed his palms to Karkat's shoulder, rubbed up and down, grinning when that got him a baffled look as Karkat stumbled sideways. He offered his hands for Bec to sniff. More growling, but as it slowly shifted from threat to grumpiness he moved his hands a little closer, trusting that he wouldn't get bitten anymore. "Good dog. Karkat?"

He heaved a sigh, but not as huge a one as John had expected. Sneaking a wary little side glance at the General, he reluctantly moved closer, allowing Jade to grab his hand and bring it in range. "Bec, stay. Stay. There, good boy. Nice. I know he smells weird and it's really funny to tree him but you can't bite him, okay." Her lips quirked impishly. "He's not _actually _a cat."

John snickered. He wasn't sure if Karkat got the words or just the tone, but he glowered sullenly anyway.

"Hand my." Tug, tug. Not actually hard enough to free himself, though that wouldn't have been too difficult. "Giiv."

"Give _back_," Jade corrected patiently, as John was still trying to translate. "Give back my hand."

Karkat pursed his lips, eyebrows furrowed in concentration. "Giiv back myhand. Zheyd."

"Okay!" she replied brightly, and let go. "We'll teach you please and thank you later, that can wait a bit."

John snorted. "Hehe, good luck actually making him use those."

"Would you say he is a rude young man, then?" the General asked, looking interested and not annoyed at all about the wait. When he started for the stairs John fell into step with him automatically, abandoning Karkat to Jade and Bec.

"Uh, not like hostile, rude, but more like he hasn't got much patience with simpering and beating around the bush, I guess. He's really frank. Not _mean,_ just, he'll tell it like he sees it."

The General _hmmmm_ed thoughtfully, clasping his hands behind his back and looking over at Karkat again and John paused, wondering whether to say more. These were things he knew because of the telepathy; no one else had ever heard Karkat speak, when he wasn't constrained by all of the twenty words of vocabulary he had to his name at the moment. It felt weird sharing those. Yep, he was the expert in Karkat. Because of the telepathy, being in each other's mind and heart, sharing memories and feelings like they were becoming one person at the edges, and then having to verbally dissect that for intel.

He thought Harley would find it funny, though.

"But he swears like a whole ship's worth of sailors! It's almost more funny than offensive. No, actually it's pretty hilarious. I don't think he ever really uses the same combination of curses twice."

The old man's eyes crinkled. "Hoho, I see."

They reached the common room. John wandered toward the kitchen corner to get some food, remembering to ask if anyone wanted coffee or what. Karkat trailed after him, picking things up that John piled on the counter and bringing them to the table. They'd fallen into that routine in the last week, there was no need to ask or mime anymore. Though it was funny how he was going around the table to the General's side rather than brave Jade - and, more importantly, Bec. Heh.

"Does he eat toast, now?"

Huh, guess he'd read the initial reports, then. "He eats everything. The Doc was telling us not to try feeding him stuff that wasn't like pure sugar or pure protein with _zero additives of any kind!_, but like we can pay attention all the time! Turns out he really takes this omnivorous thing seriously."

"He still needs more protein and less vegetables than we do," Jade added, accepting a coffee cup with a smile. "Thank you, Karkat. And I think he mostly eats toast to have something to nibble on, but at least it's not making him sick yet."

From the way Karkat eyed them in turn under his fringe looking displeased, it was visible he could tell they were talking about him. "Food," John told him, pointing at the alien's chest and then at the things he'd dumped on the table during his last trip. "Food that makes Karkat go _bluuurgh _is bad."

Karkat rolled his eyes at the gargle, but more discreetly than he would have if the General weren't there. He turned to eye the chairs, a little worried frown on his face. Either he sat in front of the General, and beside Bec, or right beside the General. Dilemma!

"On the whole I am less likely to take a bite out of your calf, young man," Harley said, eyes glinting in amusement, and patted the table at his side.

It was a little like a dare, that look, like he wanted to see what Karkat would do. When Karkat glanced at John, John shrugged to indicate the choice was up to him; Karkat went, back stiff, not saying anything. Bah, he'd figure out Jade's grandpa wasn't going to order him flayed or anything eventually. John dragged a box of cereals in reach and sat.

Munch, munch.

"So," he ventured eventually. "Why are you here, really?"

"Hm?" the General hummed back, looking up from his cup of coffee.

"I am so not going to believe you if you say you had a day off and why not."

The old man chuffed out a laugh. "Pierced by the keen blade of your sense of observation! I shan't, then." A quick glance at Karkat, who was staring down into his plate and prodding away at his bacon with a great deal of concentration. "I'm assessing the situation."

John made a doubtful face, glanced at Jade who was sighing and rolling her eyes. "Urr... By yourself. Alone."

"Here I was under the impression you children were with me!"

"Yes, Grandpa, we are, and we could have _written you a report_," Jade replied, and let out a loud, pointed sigh.

"Bah. Reports are boring! I read forty reports a day and sign twice as many, they're coming out of my ears and there is no escape, it is worse than a double case of dandruff and the clap."

John choked on a mouthful of toast crumbs trying to go down the wrong way.

"I'd think the clap wouldn't be that boring, actually," Jade said. John choked a little again.

"Well, _getting_ it, perhaps, but dealing with it afterwards..." A blink, moustache shifting as the man pursed his lips underneath. "But a young lady should never go out without her protective gear regardless!" the General finished, furrowing his eyebrows forbiddingly.

Jade nodded politely. "Of course not, Grandpa."

John was pretty sure they were in league to break his brain. It was working. He tapped his own chest with a closed fist, coughing and laughing. "You guys are _horrible_."

Karkat was sneaking them little side glances in between attempts to murder his bacon politely. Bit hard to do when he wasn't using either knife or fork, which he'd been doing just fine (well, mostly fine) only yesterday. John gave him a curious look, eyebrows arched, pointed at the unused utensils he'd apparently sneakily moved to the middle of the table. Karkat frowned at him, uneasy, and gave the General a pointed look, which the man caught with a little curious "hmm?" that had Karkat's head bowing back over his plate damn quick.

Jade leaned in on her elbows, tilting her head, made the screech-click noises that John _thought _were Karkat's name followed by an alien "what."

Karkat muttered back, sullen, something which didn't seem to come through to Jade much, because she still looked puzzled.

"Knife, Karkat." She pointed. "Knife. Yes?"

"... Nnh." Karkat bit the inside of his lip, oddly tense. "No."

John quirked his eyebrows, looked at the old man, shrugged. "Oookay, and today, showing at the Weird Alien Stuff theater..."

"So usually he ... _ah_." The old man stared at Karkat for another few seconds, and then calmly reached for the utensils, picking them up by the middle to hand them to Karkat handle first. "No, it is quite all right, lad, this is barely more than a butter knife."

Blink, blink. Karkat took them from his hand, once again being really obvious in how much he was not pointing his claws anywhere close to General Harley's wrist. John suspected that for people who were never unarmed unless they were _literally _de-armed it was just a way to be polite.

Or, uh, maybe just a way to avoid being counterattacked against when they hadn't been attacking in the first place.

Karkat busied himself with his fork and knife, ears gone ruddy at the tips in embarrassment. John kind of regretted that he wasn't close enough to ruffle his hair and nudge an elbow in his ribs.

"Man, I didn't even think of it. See, you should have come with real bodyguards."

"And had they taken his eating utensils from him, I would have been most displeased." The General gave a sharp snap of his fingers. "Jade, table rule number seven."

She rolled her eyes and sing-songed it, but she was smiling even as she did. "We do not eat with our fingers, unless we are in the field and being bombarded and have used all the cutlery to line tiger traps already. Rule seven, codicil A, a deliciousness-based exception shall be made for breaded products such as sandwiches, buttered toast and pizza."

"Pffhehehe."

It was so nice to be able to relax with family. He'd missed that so much. Just being a kid and joking around and he almost, almost decided it was a day he could call Hass Harley Grandpa too, because he _was_, okay?

In the end he didn't, because Karkat was there with his little gold-tipped horns and his slate gray skin and his mouth full of fangs.

"But really... That's _maybe _a little too trusting?" He fiddled with his toast before shoving it whole in his mouth. Chomp, chomp, not at all a technique to pretend he wasn't embarrassed by the topic and trying to delay it, damn Rose for pointing it out to him so often he was pointing it out to himself now. "And I'm the one saying that, Dave would cry over how ironic it is, so you guys know it's true."

Jade and her grandpa exchanged a long look.

"I mean, I can think of it, so I bet you and your advisors could too. Like, what if he's biding his time, and whoops a guy who looks important, I could take him hostage! But you're just... sitting next to him. And handing him pointy stuff, even."

"Umm... John," Jade said around a wince. "You know, that stint in Black Ops that definitely never happened?"

"Uh?"

"Well, it really _did _'not happen,' if you see what I mean." She even did the finger quotes.

"Huh."

The General's hazel eyes were clear as they gazed at John, but cool, a little distant. "I've never taught you children anything because I am, alas, getting on in years, and Mr. Strider was more than up to the task, and most of my tricks are, sad to say, more suited to assassination than to frontline combat, which did not seem to be extremely relevant. Should your esteemed guest decide to attack me there is an even chance he would be dead before he hit the ground."

John stared at him, briefly at a loss.

It always felt like tearing a metaphorical piece of his brain (his heart) when he had to see both My Buddy Karkat Who I Promised I'd Protect, and My Family. Because... family.

"Yeah, and he could also _not _be, and _you _could be. You can't just - he's _quick_, okay? Not Roxy-quick but more than human-quick. And he doesn't even _need _a knife, and he's sitting beside you and we're on the other side of the table and-"

"And you didn't think of it beforehand and it's bothering you."

"... Mnh."

"I do read _some _reports, John," Grandpa Hass assured him in a softer, gentler voice, one that wasn't military or bombastic at all. One that held none of the distance it had only a minute ago, like... John wasn't sure. (Like My Grandson John instead of The Warhammer Pilot.) "But if it'll help we'll go over it now."

John speared and chewed on a piece of bacon that had the misfortune of being at the edge of Jade's plate and thus in stealing range. He wasn't moved at all, for the record.

Hass smiled, eyes crinkling. "There's a point, you know, at which you've milked all the data dry and you have to put your theories to the test in order to move forward!"

Move forward... toward what? The way he'd stared at John had been a little insistent, like he meant some specific thing, but John was alas not a mind reader yet. Where was a telepathic headset when you wanted one. "Pff. You're just saying that because you're bored at the office."

General Harley grinned. "You say that like it can't be both. So! How is the cohabitation going? Cabin fever set in yet?"

"Oh god yes. I mean, we've got a daily routine now but I really hope Mr. Strider can set something up for the gym, I can feel myself getting rustier by the second. Also it would help keep Karkat calm if he could get some exercise! The most we ever get is to, like, go up to the roof and walk around. We don't run because then the government snipers on the next buildings over would think he's chasing me or we're trying to jump or whatever. Also his world's a little higher gravity-wise, he's gonna lose all his muscle tone soon."

The General hummed thoughtfully. "Would he be willing to spar? That'd provide interesting data, so even with the risk it should be easy to push that through. Ah, second question, do you believe him willing and able to stop sparring before any real injuries occur?"

John gave Karkat a pointed look. Karkat who still held his fork and knife gingerly, like he wanted to be able to drop them in a second just in case that looked vaguely threatening. (He was also glowering at John, probably still knowing full well they were talking about him and by now frustrated to hell and back about it.) "Um, _yeah_. He's still persuaded that if anything happened to me he'd land back in deep crap. Actually it'll probably be a bit difficult to talk him into sparring with me in the first place."

"And if anything happened to someone else?"

"Hm. We did tell him he couldn't hurt people, and even if we hadn't ... I don't think it's his thing anyway, outside of battles I mean, he doesn't feel like he's physically aggressive or anything, usually, but that's just a feeling I get." John shrugged. "So long as he understands it's just play-fighting and he isn't fighting for his life it should be cool. He's probably frustrated enough that he wouldn't even mind letting us watch his fighting style at this point. I'll ask?"

"Hrrm, hrrm." The Moustache apparently needed stroking. "Any aggression issues?"

Wow, it really felt more and more like he was just going through a checklist now, like he was just making stuff extra-clear that he understood fine already. John frowned, trying to give the question the thought it deserved even so. He wanted to say no straight away, but maybe he should think about it more so he would look at least vaguely impartial...

"Well, he argues. And you gotta be careful when he's asleep because he still has nightmares and he'd probably savage you before he's even awake - but it's not like he means to have them..."

"Is it still daily?" Jade asked, eyebrows furrowed in worry.

"Yeah." John sighed, eyed the alien. "He seems to get over them pretty fast, though, and he doesn't look exhausted or slow or anything, so possibly he's still getting enough sleep. Just, _not _a morning person."

"Dirk said it didn't take him very long to transition between that sleepwalking nightmare state and being fully awake, is that right?"

John was a little torn between annoyance that Dirk had talked (of course he had) and gratitude that he'd been saying good things. "Couple minutes. You just have to stay way out of range until he remembers where he is, and then he calms down."

"Well, that's still fairly tolerable. Nothing else?"

John bit his lip. Well. Bec _had _arrived in the middle of a pretty bad argument, and if they had not been too far to hear or see some of it...

Argh. No, bad John, no thinking about maybe omitting stuff, that was the kind of bullshit thought that had landed him in deep shit in the first place. John the Transparent, that was him from now on. Yep.

"Sometimes when we argue he gets pretty loud and snarly, and then he'll start ... like, talking with his hands, and if someone accidentally walked into that they'd probably come out with pretty nice scratches or a black eye, but ... no, it's not really dangerous otherwise, I don't think. He doesn't get in my personal space or threaten to punch me in the face or anything. Well, perhaps verbally, I dunno." _Argh, John, just shut up while you're ahead_, he reminded himself.

"He's always pretty nice with me!" Jade piped up. "Calm, even. I think John just pisses him off for the fun of it, sure looks like it some days. Maybe if you didn't tease him so much..."

"I don't tease him!"

"Nag?" Jade asked innocently, eyes bright and wide open. John slanted her a sideway glare. She turned to look at Karkat, leaned in. "Hey, Khrk'th. John is _hrrrn'ghssst_, yes?"

Karkat blinked, and cracked a microscopic smile. He sneaked John a look, hesitated, and then leaned in toward Jade, even though he had to know it was pretty doomed as far as discreet whispering went. "Yes. Zhann _stupid dumb_."

"Hehehe."

She grinned. He smiled back, the faint quirk of lips quickly gone as he glanced at the amused General and wiped his face of all expression. John glared sullenly. Traitor.

"If you want he can come sleep in your room and you can babysit him and I can go back up to fight already! And you can have all the language lessons you guys want."

The General put his cup of coffee down, a bit too slowly, bushy brows furrowed. "Ah. I take it you haven't checked your messages yet today."

John stared back. That? was _not_ good news. Nobody announced good news like that, with that expression.

He raised a hand to his glasses, clicked them online, glanced his way through instant messenger windows and the inevitable spam that even a government email seemed to gather, and then...

**From: f.  
Subject: FWD: Expertise Report MA-WRHMR-1.45 (Sorry John)**

He felt his stomach fall.

Last he'd checked, the repairs had been going decently well. Eight days ago, when he picked up Karkat from the labs, they were talking of maybe ten more days, maybe two weeks tops. Today though...

Diagrams and stress test results and scans and a lot of synopses. Computers were fine, weapons were fine, sensors were good and could be improved on with the latest advances, oxygen generator had not been hard to replace...

**... it is our conclusion that the nonessential components can be restored to approximately 85% of functionality. However, even after extensive repairs, the frame will withstand a level of battle stress estimated to be 13% lower than optimal levels. As we cannot project with any kind of certainty how long and under what kind of assault MA-WRHMR-1.45 (WARHAMMER) might keep its functionality and ensure pilot survival, the recommendation of this commission is that it be replaced in its entirety.**

That was a joke, right? He used his very limited hacking knowledge to trace the message back to the source. Nope, he knew that woman, didn't have a joking bone in her body. He knew the guys and gals who had cosigned on the message. A couple of them worked in the hangars, joked around with John whenever he dropped by to help, taught him job tricks.

They knew how much he loved his mech. They loved it too.

"_Could I have some good news for once?!_" he shouted, standing. He wanted to flip something - his breakfast plate, the massive oak table, his own lid. He threw his hands up, raked them through his hair. "God damn it, this is not fair, what'd I _do_ to deserve this load of bull? Step on nuns in Warhammer? Flash preschool kids?!"

Karkat had stopped eating, was staring at him in total bafflement. Jade sighed, said "_John_," wearily.

"What?! No, seriously, is it too much to ask that at least _once _something good happen?! I swear Karkat's cursed, I've had nothing but shitty luck and bad days and-"

Someone slapped his head from behind. He caught himself on the table, whirled around on his assailant. His sister stood there, staring at him and supremely unimpressed. He growled, rubbing the back of his head.

"Now what _is_ going on?" Jane asked, hands on her hips, lips pursed.

"John finally got around to checking his email," the General informed her, and calmly took another sip of coffee, faint disapproval oozing in John's general direction like a cloud. "Which I plumb thought was a standard routine for all of you!"

"Aw, I'd have nothing to do anyway, why'd I have to check first thing?" John scowled and kicked lightly at his chair, which skidded along the floor, ricocheted off the table leg, and went careening off at an angle, crashing to the ground. Whoops. Jane pursed her lips at him until he went to pick it back up.

"Is that _all_? Honestly! You're grounded anyway and it's not like they don't keep replacement parts ready to go, it won't take too long!"

"Repairs would have taken two weeks! Piecing a new one together will take at least _one month_! That's not too long to you?"

He righted the chair. Jane kept glowering. He sat, scowling.

"... Oh hey, sis, you could let me have Poseidon! It's not like you even _like _flyi-"

Bam, another slap to the back of his head. "John, I love you, but if I catch you trying to borrow my mech I might do something irreparable to your anatomy and my prawn desheller. Now finish your breakfast."

Pouting, he started prodding at his food again. "Dunno if you remember but you're two minutes older, _mom_."

Jade grimaced. "Ugh, gross. Could you please not remind us?"

"Wh- I was saying she _acted _like my mom, not that she - uuuugh." John eyed Harley sideways. He had one hand covering his moustache and his eyes laughing, though rather ruefully. Always weird to remember that if they did a DNA analysis on the people in this room, John and Jade would come out as the General and Jane's lovechildren. Most of the time he honestly did forget, because it really didn't matter. But Jane had gotten a bit touchy about it when she hit her teenage years and he had no idea why.

Karkat was staring at them all in turn like he was wondering why he'd even been startled and also _oh god why did I have to fall in with lunatics._ Made John's lips quirk up some, but then he remembered his mech was going to be stripped for parts. He shuffled toward Jade to let Jane make herself a spot at the far corner of the table and poked at his food, head hanging. Fuck his life.

Coffee sips. Cutlery on plates. Not-so-stealthy whisper. "Uhn - Zheyd?"

"Yes, Kark- oh! Pfffhehe."

John glanced up. Karkat was staring dubiously at the floor on the side of his chair opposite from the General.

Bec was staring back, sitting there, jaw open just enough to pant and let a red tongue loll through white fangs. Hungrily.

John _might_ have snickered a bit. That sure explained the betrayed look Karkat flicked him.

Jade waved her hand, laughing. "No, no, it's okay."

Karkat did not seem to agree. Like, at all. "No. No no no. Bad no."

"You've got to learn to get along!" Jade replied, nodding enthusiastically. "Also not to show fear. That's critical. Be brave!"

"Jade, you're evil," John noted approvingly. Jane sighed.

"Ah - Karkat." The alien blinked up; Jane pointed at his half-full plate, then at the dog, not quite meeting Karkat's eyes. "He wants your food."

Karkat looked at her, at his plate, and then at the dog, whose tongue had unrolled in a somewhat mocking-looking, anticipatory grin.

The alien's eyes narrowed, and he stabbed all his bacon in one go and stuffed it in his mouth.

Munch.

"_No_. Hrrn." The look on his face could have been subtitled '_So There_.' Pffff.

Bec tilted his head. Whine.

Karkat stared back.

Bec looked at the food meaningfully, back at Karkat. Back at the food. Back at Karkat. Whiiine.

Swearing under his breath, Karkat speared and offered the last of his egg, smeared in bacon juices. They were inhaled in less than a second.

"That dog's way too smart for his own good," John commented, snickering a bit.

"You should tell him to sit next time," the General said, immediately yanking Karkat's attention back to him without even trying. He smiled at Karkat's mildly nervous attention. "Like this. Bec, _here_. Good boy. Sit." Bec sat immediately. Funny how John could yell _sit_ and _no _until the end of Time and the dog would just keep doing as he willed, but with Hass and Jade he just plopped his ass down straight away. "Shake hands." Bec raised a paw to shake. "Good. Have some bacon."

Dog fed and dismissed, the old man rose, pushed away from the table.

"And on that no doubt vital note to future relations I'll wander off. My babysitters are beeping my earbud off, this is becoming a right nuisance, and it just so happens I am done with my evaluation and breakfast both! Remarkably efficient. Let us hope our next meeting will occur in a timely manner, and in much better circumstances for all involved." A nod to each person present, a quick ruffle to Jade's hair and Bec's ears, and he strode off, boots striking the floor militarishly as possible. Karkat watched him go, still looking a bit disoriented.

"You did good," Jade assured him with a smile. "Good boy, Karkat."

The alien blinked at her, shaking his head a little in brows-furrowing bafflement, muttered something under his breath, and mime-grimaced a request for seconds. John let Jade serve him and went back to his own breakfast.

* * *

Three hours later they were still in the living room and John was about to jump for the ceiling lamp and do crunches from up there just out of sheer boredom. Perhaps see if he could swing from the lamp to the counter (several meters) and escape out the window without touching the floor once.

Karkat and Jade were having another alien language lesson, Jane taking notes on bluh bluh alveo-palatal consonants and epiglottal what the heck ever. He wasn't allowed to watch what he wanted on the TV for fear it would distract Karkat from the lesson, or reveal something to him that he shouldn't know, or confuse him about how things really happened on Earth because wow was daytime TV not a good representation of healthy interpersonal relationships. Or so John was told. He just wanted to watch one good brain-killing action movie! Just one! He'd even allow them to bargain down the number of explosions! But nope.

"I can't even hear any difference," he complained, flopped across the table. "You're cheating, Janey, I know you are, your ears aren't freaky like Jade's. You're making it up, aren't you?!" From his point of view it was a lot of fairly identical throaty growls and chest humming and snaky clicks, and the vowels were mostly breathy absences of consonants.

"Congrats," Jade replied with an eye roll. "Ten minutes without whining this time! You're about to beat your record."

"Should I get you a coloring book?" Jane inquired, side-eyeing him.

Bluh.

He couldn't even nag Karkat or anything, since he was busy doing productive stuff. Then again that particular pastime had lost its charm somewhere last Wednesday. Karkat couldn't answer him, and making up translations for his outraged snarling and put-upon grimaces just got old without any new material for inspiration.

"Nr. 'ch. Zheyd, aghain?"

Jade repeated, three times. Karkat kept frowning. Jade sighed. "Alright, let's stop here, he's not retaining anymore. Stop, Karkat. Later."

"Woo, break time!"

"Like you were even working, John!"

Jade didn't stop him dancing to the fridge to get them all drinks, he noticed.

He sat beside Karkat, pretended to offer him a coke, was snorted at; Karkat bumped his shoulder against John's and sneaked his arm behind John's back to grab the apple juice he was keeping hidden there. Somehow Karkat had developed a totally unfounded grudge against carbonation. Just because John hadn't warned him _once!_ Okay, twice. Maybe three times. Now he kept to beverages he knew for sure weren't going to fizz up his nose. No sense of adventure.

John wrestled him a bit before he surrendered the can to him; Karkat let out a self-satisfied little hiss and popped the can open, giving him a sideways challenging, smug look as he sipped.

Like they didn't both know John had let him win. Heh.

"Alright," Jane said eventually, and clicked something open on her laptop with that grim determination which she often approached anything Karkat-related with. "My turn. John, please?"

John never knew how he was supposed to feel.

He took the telepathic headset from Jade's hand anyway, stared down at it. He was just supposed to play interpreter, no personal comments interjected, but there always were some. It wasn't possible to mindmeld and not get personal.

Fifteen minutes a day, no more, sometimes less because Karkat still didn't want to share a lot of things about his people, his command. Mostly they talked about his biomech, because it still needed repairs, but even that came out choked through with guilt and self-accusations of selfishness, and it didn't help when John couldn't keep his thoughts off of all the viruses and gene-engineering the human scientists were probably already toying with.

Fifteen minutes of concentrating like he was in flight, mission objectives to check through and nothing else. It was doable.

Karkat's loneliness was killing him.

Karkat understood, though. Of course he did, he'd been in John's head that day, of course he got the reasoning.

John put on his headset.

_(what else today what else am I going to give (traitor coward traitor) hate this (need this) hate-) hey John._

_hey Karkat. (I'm here) (not my place shouldn't be.)_

_(it's okay.)_

Fuck.

Okay. Mission time. He closed his eyes, curled his fingers. Cockpit, toggles and levers, joysticks in his hands, EMP rocket right there under his thumb. Three, two, one, ignition.

"Jane, on your mark."

She nodded, breathed out. John concentrated on rethinking her words, nothing more, nothing less.

"Command structure. Who's at the top?"

Impossibly long spear horns and a cloud of hair and a slow, sensual, terrifying smile. Power beyond telling, so high above, a magnificent soaring eagle to his ridiculous, landbound chicken. "She who deigns to lead us into conquest," John said, haltingly, as he hunted for the best way to translate the words Karkat said out loud for Jade to transcribe. "By right of blood."

"She was born into the position?" Jane asked, eyes fixed on her file. John and Karkat nodded. "Queen then. No, wait, empress is a better fit, one difference between a kingdom and an empire is that an empire is ever-expanding, and a kingdom has fixed boundaries."

_(she's nervous. babbling.)_

_(always is around you/me.)_

Jade gnawed on the edge of a nail. "Wonder if she's the same caste as Karkat? I mean, they've got some pretty insectoid traits, right, so I wonder if they're all the same kind or if there's, like, worker ants, and soldiers and drones and things."

"No," John replied, and then "Yes, but she's not, she's the same type he is. Only female, obviously. Huh, really?"

_(no, wait, no curiosity. just translating.)_

"Quite interesting. Are the biomechs a caste then?"

Karkat let out a vaguely, bitterly amused laugh.

"Kind of, half way. Not naturally, they're gene-engineered, we knew that. Huh." A flash of the white monster, Karkat himself, and a black-armored, spiky, _terrifying_ creature, yet humanoid, too, if much less than Karkat himself was. He tried to untangle it but Karkat buried it with a faint mental hiss. "I think they're partly based on Karkat's caste."

"Yes, we found quite a lot of Karkat's own genes floating around in his biomech," Jane confirmed, reserved; Karkat stared back stone-faced, unsurprised yet swearing a little bit, _of course they'd have figured that out_. "Fragments of other mechs we brought back had similar but different genes in those places. One working theory is that it's used as a sort of genetic password, and there would only be one compatible pilot per biomech."

_Shit._

"Yes."

Jade hummed under her breath. "A human couldn't make one move by accident, then. I don't know whether that's good or not, it's good for our tech guys in case there's an oopsie, but I kinda wanted to try one on!"

"_Jade_," Jane reprimanded.

"Kidding, but still, later on it would reduce the possibility of-"

"Maybe it would move," John said, because Karkat was dubious but wasn't dismissing it out of hand either. "If it wanted to - urgh, that's creepy, do they ever want anything? Really?"

_(yes. no. I want to believe/it's stupid to. who knows.) The set of coincidences I'm seeing it working in would be vanishingly unlikely. Might eat you alive first. Some are crankier than others._

"So it would obey a human if it felt like it, if it could feel anything at all and if that feeling it could feel wasn't hostility and-or a craving for human flesh. Okay. Wow. Noted."

Jade and Jane grimaced a little. He wasn't the only one to find partially sentient, _literal_ "ghost in the machine" bioware creepy.

"Never had the brilliant thought to pop a fucking alien in and see what happens, somehow," John said, and then arched an eyebrow at Karkat, who arched an eyebrow right back and then smirked. _Pay more attention._ "Oh, _fudge_ you."

_No, fuck you more. (heh win.)_

"Let's go back to the empress," Jane interrupted. She was staring down at her laptop again, eyebrows drawn. "She's the same caste you are."

_... yes/no/yes? nothing is like her, special pure unique/**could **breed with her if hahaha yeah fucking right. Biologically sort of yes?_

"I _think _that's a yes. With a lot of caveats. Biologically, Karkat."

_Get killed out of hand for even thinking it much less doing/if it didn't work would be on me not on her/my allyfriends could at least?_

"Okay, it's a yes. But there's other castes?"

Black and spiky humanoids that somehow reminded him a little bit of the biomechs, but smaller, maybe tall as two Karkats. Many of those. Huge things, so fat they probably couldn't move under their own power, some black and looming and terrifying, and one with several disgusting hungry maws and ridiculously atrophied wings which Karkat blurred out of John's mind in a hissing, protective hurry, one that came tinted with a strange kind of devotion.

"At least three. One's roughly person-sized but kind of spiky, one or two are closer to mech-sized - holy crap, I can't imagine how that's the same species."

_... you guys are all the same size? That's weird._

_Your **face **is weird._

_No, yours. Hornless white-eyed flat-toothed twit._

"_Boys_."

John guiltily stopped shoving at Karkat's shoulder and trying (not very hard) to push him off his chair. "Whoops. Yeah, sorry, sis."

"Why does she get to be the empress? How are they even chosen?"

John blinked a little under the sheer "_... duh?_" Karkat was emitting. It was like Jade had asked why the sun rose in the East.

(_Because "east" MEANS "the direction the sun rises from," stupid, no you cannot have a planet that has sunrises in the west if you do it's just that you accidentally switched the north and south poles tags on your viewport you incommensurable moron oh fuck me you're holding it upside down of fucking course._ _Dear shitfucking space lords I am ashamed of being a newbie same as **you**.) John get out of my random-ass memories what next the first time I tied my shoelaces (the first time I saw my planet from orbit oh.)_

"Hehe, sure."

Fuck, he was leaking again. Cockpit, mission. Concentrate. It ached, slamming the door on Karkat's background memories, even though Karkat was somewhat grumpy about him seeing them in the first place. He minded them being seen, but them being _rejected_...

_Sorry._

_I know. Stupid. Work._

"I dunno, Karkat's blasting me with _how can a question so stupid even exist_ and won't actually answer." He shrugged. Jade pursed her lips.

Jane was still going through her checklist, expression bland and serious. "You said some aliens of your species were psychic. Is she psychic?"

"Uh, _no_, like she even needs to be; what next, a sword on an imperial cruiser? _Several _swords? Ooh, scary now."

Jade was staring at him. Whoops, he'd gone Karkat-sarcastic once again.

He was about to scratch the back of his head sheepishly and say something glib about haha mind contagion surely you jest, only Jade and Jane froze together at that point, raised hands to the side of their glasses.

_What? tense wary scowl why?_

John clamped his teeth on his lower lip. _Priority update. (shit. oh shit.)_

"Sorry guys, gotta go!" Jade threw over her shoulder as she shoved away from the table. She barely paused to give John and Karkat a quick, unconvincingly reassuring smile, and then she was gone at a run, mane of hair flying behind her, eyes hard.

John's glasses stayed blank, of course.

Fuck.

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

_(my people they're fighting my people up there)_

_(Jade might die they called her up they said don't leave Karkat alone with Jane ever but she went anyway oh Jane fuck, davedirkroxy fuck)_

_(Jade's nice but my people) (but Jade) (not my friends please not my friends)_

_(I want to go up there I want to go I want to go please let me go)_

He wasn't even sure who thought that last one; both of them, most probably. Shit. Just...

"John. ... Karkat. We still have work."

When John looked up Jane wasn't looking at either of them, jaw tense, shoulders a block of wood. He wanted to reassure her that it was fine, things would be fine, they were going to win up there and Karkat wasn't a danger to her and never would be, and yeah, that sounded like a super smart thing to bring up.

"Yeah, okay," he said, even though he wanted to answer anything but. He was becoming an increasingly big fan of 'fuck that, I'm going to help!', for example.

"The empress," she said briskly. "Anything else?"

John wrenched his mind away from the battlefield up there in the sky, closed his eyes, visualized, trying to solidify all the little things Karkat had let slip about her. A lot of his response was emotional - awe, respect, fear, a strange bitterness, a seed of doubt. The thought of how impudent he'd ever been thinking to call her attention onto him. Thinking he'd survive it. If she could have granted him his boon he almost wouldn't have cared he'd be killed for it, if she could have granted him _twin-horned tangled in vampire guts ropes of devouring flesh caught and not dying it'd be better if he **were **dying a clean end and that'd be it -_

"Hrrst." _Cut that the fuck out!_

"Give me intel and I will! - Oh. Oh, that's why he thought pink was a girl color, it's the color of the empress! She puts it on everything."

"Interesting. The color of her... sigil? Crest?"

"I think so." He tried to find something funny/stupid to say, so he'd stop thinking about Karkat's _friendallygone_. "Matches her eyes, too, heh."

Karkat's mind was one huge, confusing morass of contrary feeling, quicksilver thoughts. Things he wasn't sharing, but in the middle there were the things he meant to convey, and those were easy to translate.

"Yes," John repeated. "Her color. Only hers."

Jane stared at Karkat, then, but not for long before she switched back onto John. "... Does every empress use the same color? The way purple dye used to be so expensive it was reserved for kings?"

"There's only ever been one empress," Karkat/John said.

Silence. Jane stared. John breathed. It was this weird, immense non-surprise. Of course there had never been another. Of course.

"... Let's go with units of time measurement. Is one day longer or shorter for you?"

John waited for Karkat to think it out. "Longer, a little bit, maybe by a couple of hours at most."

"How many days in a year?"

"About eight hundred." A blink, clarifying the number in his head, why did they count in base twenty for years, honestly. "Seven ninety?"

"Do you count your years in centuries?"

"Yes."

"How far does your written history get?"

"Millennia. She was empress even then. Even so. She took us - them to the stars. Been reigning ever since."

"Propaganda," Jane immediately bit out, but it came out a little brittle under the harsh. "Adds to her line's mystique."

Even if that were true, the empire itself had endured that long.

It was the first time in his life John's hair had ever gone up all the way down his spine like this. It was kind of fascinating, if he could detach far enough.

Karkat was musing about how it was funny in a pretty sad way how all the aliens he'd ever heard of apparently reacted the same way. Denial, terror. Despair.

_Fuck that noise, she must be decrepit by now, just you wait and see._

_... heh good luck with that. (I need to stop liking you, asshole.)_

_Good luck with that, _John parroted immediately, and then regretted it. It was too much, acknowledging this, just too much. He closed his eyes, went through a take-off sequence in his head. Good, now an Immelman, attack from the left, parry, kick-slash, let the hammer's momentum drag you, hole in defenses _there **fire**._

_(shit, why are you good) _came wafting through from Karkat, not even jealousy really, just resigned admiration.

_Was made for this_, he admitted, even though he was trying to cut it off, stop the bond. _They took little bits of awesome people and tinkered made them awesomer heh I'm kinda like your mech like that._

_... oh._

He could tell he'd caught him by surprise, that Karkat didn't know how he was supposed to react.

_It's fine, they love us treat us well respect us and we get to be badass, I'm fine with it!_ All of them were, more or less, though some of them thought a ton about it, and John himself had never bothered. He was like _this_, because of _that_, okay, cool? Now he was going to be awesome at it. (Jane was probably the only one who actively wasn't fine with it.)

_It'd be so good if I could hate your stupid face even a little bit, _Karkat mused. **_So _**_good. Universes of good._

_Jeeealous._

_Fuck you very much._

_D'aww. I don't hate you too._

_Stop being such a ridiculous mushy sap I will heave so hard it'll bring up all the contents of my digestive track in a glorious smelly geyser of computer annihilation even the stuff that was about to come out the other end. I'll make sure to aim in your direction. Smile, motherfucker!_

_Hahaha you're so gross._

"... _John!_"

"Sorry. Yeah?"

Jane breathed in, nostrils briefly flaring, stared back down at her computer. Her lips were still pinched, unhealthy white. Here he was goofing off to forget his scare, and here she was actually thinking about what it meant. Should he reassure her? He didn't know how she'd take it. He knew she wouldn't believe baseless reassurances, anyway, but... maybe a hug?

Her fingers were shaking.

"Anything else about that queen?"

If he tried to hug her now when she was trying so hard to keep doing her job and be a professional about it she might kick him. He'd probably ruin her too-tightly-wound composure to hell and back. He pursed his lips, thinking. Hm. _What else, Karkat?_

_Guess it won't hurt to give you her sigil._

He reached for a loose bit of paper, handed it to Karkat wordlessly as Karkat picked up a pen. It was the wrong color; he knew before Karkat ever started scribbling and frowned, displeased, was already finding him a box of old, well-chewed rainbow markers in one of the drawers along the wall behind them. Karkat took it over his shoulder without looking, flicked it open, fished out the raspberry.

Two shallow arcs, back to back, barred through by a single straight line.

"That's her," they said in two languages, pink and gray fingers trailing on white paper, unwilling to encroach onto fuchsia lines. "She who condescends to lead us."

Something came flying at them/Karkat.

They didn't think; Karkat threw himself back, John threw his hand in between, slapped it away, ow. _Jane's laptop. What?_

The table was next, massive oak, tipping hard, going flying, pens scattering - trapped against the wall, shit; John braced against the wall to kick it back, Karkat banged his shin, ow shit, leapt on the bookcase behind him, perched there on the chest-high edge, the fuck, _the fuck?_

Jane stood there, shaking all over, breathing like an exhausted racing horse, eyes wild.

Up until they found Karkat, and then her hands stilled.

Fisted.

"_Jane no!_"

John rammed his sister in the side, deflected her momentum hard; Karkat leapt from his perch and over the tipped-over table to get to the wider-open spaces of the TV corner, pens crunching and rolling under his feet. Jane kicked off the bookcase (wood cracked) and almost managed to yank herself free of John's hold.

"_GET OUT OF HIS HEAD! I'LL KILL YOU!_"

_John what?!_

John couldn't think anything back except _but she was betteroh fuck oh no_.

She dragged him across the floor; their feet skidded and scrambled in opposite directions on the tiles. "John _you need to let me go!_"

He shook his head no, biting his lip. His eyes prickled.

"I need to kill it, I need to, need to save you, need, let go, you have to let me, get out of their _fucking _heads, get out of my head, get out, get out, oh Lord get it out-"

_Offensive telepath_, Karkat thought/realized, either from her words or John's mess of thoughts. John snarled back at him. _No fucking shit! Get out of her sight or something_ - "Janey! Janey you're safe, we're all safe, you need to breathe! We're home, you're safe - ow, fuck, ow, stop kicking- it's just Karkat!"

"I don't _care _it's Karkat! I don't - I, John _it's in your head_, I need - I need to save you I need to -"

She'd slowed down, trembling anew; he wrapped his arms tight around her and arched back to lift her feet off the ground and held on with all his strength. Jane struggled against him, elbowed him in the ribs hard enough to bruise to the bone (she didn't have enough space to break any of them; he couldn't tell if she was far enough gone that she would have.)

He retreated, wobbling under her struggling weight, to the kitchen corner; she kicked against the wall, forced him to put her feet back down on the floor. He dragged her behind the high countertops. Once there she was the one who yanked him down, shoved him bodily into a corner, braced her back against him to make a wall of herself; he could have cried.

"At least you, at least - we're home, right? John? We're home? I'll save at least you, I'll - where is it? Where are they, John, I can't find my -"

_(What's wrong with her is she crazy what happened oh lord if there was one of them I didn't expect to be insane-)_

"Shut the fuck up!" John growled at Karkat over the countertop, not that he could see him. Jane had gone silent, but she was still braced tight against him and wouldn't let him get up, kept making a barrier of her body.

"I know it's just Karkat," she said, like she was trying to convince herself. "I know it's him, he's in your head, _he needs to stop being in your head_, I know we're home and it's safe, no, no it's not, I - I know -"

"We're in the kitchen, Janey," John said, hugging her around the waist, and wishing Dad were there, wishing Dad could hold onto her and fix this somehow, because Jane was like John that way, it didn't matter how much physically weaker Dad was, she'd never believe anything dangerous would ever get through him. Dad wasn't here, he was - he didn't know, maybe his bedroom but more likely in the office in which case they were fucked. He pressed the side of his head to Jane's hip to start up his glasses, glanced his way through his contact list. No Dad. No Mr. Strider, no Doc Lalonde. "We're in the kitchen, it still smells a bit like breakfast, can you smell breakfast?"

She elbowed him in the temple, hitting the headset and the branch of his glasses both. Pain exploded in his head.

He was still shaking his head to clear up the light show when he felt a flicker of determination from Karkat. The headset had moved; he pressed his head to Jane's back as she apologized frantically, rubbed to put it right.

Karkat wasn't thinking of anything, was just thinking of his path, a clear shot to the door, the code that John knew without thought, easy as breathing, and Karkat knew where to go from there, the whole building.

"No!" John yelled. _No stay we both promised don't be stupid-!_

Karkat kept running, his footfalls rapidly growing silent, his presence in John's head fading out with the distance. John breathed out slowly, still incredulous, and let himself slide to the floor. Jane yanked free. He started reaching for her, hesitated when she didn't charge out of the kitchen corner to give chase; she hesitated on the threshold, shuddered briefly, and then retreated and started pacing back and forth before him, head twitching this and that way as she feverishly scanned all possible directions.

John closed his eyes and selected one name on his roster he'd never used in his life.

**JH: karkat's loose in the building. need lockdown starting now.**  
** JNoir: done.**  
**JNoir**: what the fuck did you do now. you little asshole.  
**JH: i did fuck you. fuck you is what i did.**  
**JH: jane's with me in the kitchen. pilot quarters otherwise empty.**  
**JNoir**: got him on infrared.  
**JNoir**: perimeter up. get off my line.  
**JH: thanks.**

He logged off; he wasn't going to get a reply he'd want to read, if he got one at all. Thanks for doing the job I couldn't? No problem.

It was stupid to feel so betrayed, so disappointed, because he'd been so sure Karkat had zero interest in leaving his custody and attempting to escape, even now he was still sure Karkat believed it was a hopeless endeavor, but if he'd just tried to get away from Jane then a little farther down the corridor would have been fine, still technically close enough to keep tabs on, and now the stupid asshole was forcing him to call Noir's people on his stupid gray ass, shit, shit, _shit_.

He touched Jane's hand as she paced past him. He didn't take it, in case feeling restrained set her off again.

"Janey, can you tell where you are?"

"The kitchen," she said. "I _know _it's the kitchen, I just-" Her fingers kept twitching like they wanted to toggle between, oh _argh_, between infrared and the nuclear warhead's targeting module. Ffff. "Keep - keep talking to me, please, John."

"Yeah, sure, what do you want me to talk about? Heh, we should spar again one of these days, urgh not a great topic. I hope the table isn't broken, okay this isn't a good topic either, uh. This morning I showered in the girls' bathroom, are you scandalized?"

"Yes," she said, like she barely knew what she was saying yes to, just knew that she should. "That's off-limits, it's very naughty of you, buster. It killed my men, John, I was escorting them and it killed them. One, by one, by-"

"Janey-"

"-one, it was such a hoot, they kept coming, hoho, so hilarious-"

John got up and cupped the back of her head and forced it down before she could start laughing herself breathless. Her face was streaked with tears.

"-it wasn't funny, did you know, John, it wasn't! I was right, it wasn't me who laughed _so why do I still find it funny?!_"

"Because the son of a bitch in your head thought it was," John said bluntly, because he was out of other ideas. "It wasn't you, Jane."

Only back then they hadn't known about the telepathy. She must have thought her mind was cracking down the middle.

He'd hoped it would help, telling her that. He'd... he didn't known what he really hoped for, some kind of miraculous revelation that would fix everything, but she only snorted. "I know it wasn't. I always - I always knew, only I didn't _believe_ it." She took in a shuddering, wet breath. "And now I believe it - or I believe that I should believe it? - and it doesn't change one single piddly thing."

She chuckled to herself. John pulled her into a hug. She kept laughing in his shoulder.

What now?

**JNoir**: incoming.  
**JH: what?**

_... really what John wanted oh fuck I hope, can't believe he hasn't killed me yet -_

_Karkat?!_

He was in the corridor, jogging back; when John closed his eyes he could almost feel the impact of the floor traveling up from his heels, his uncomfortably clenched toes, dull claws digging into the soles of his stupid flip-flops.

_John I - (embarrassment confusion contrition shame, did I do wrong, didn't know what else-)_

"Son? What - oh."

When he tilted his head to look past Jane's messy hair for a second he got a visual echo, Dad running toward and away from him both. Karkat had stopped just past the doorway, invisible from where John and Jane stood, but John could tell exactly where he was.

He was so relieved when Dad walked into the kitchen corner and enfolded them both into a hug, he almost forgot the rest. Jane melted against Dad, fists clenching on his already wrinkled shirt.

"Did - did Karkat get you?" John asked quietly.

"Mmh. Burst right into my bedroom. It was a bit of a surprise! I wasn't too sure what he wanted."

His father gave him a small, _I've got this _smile. His chin was stubbly. Had he been asleep? And then dragged out of bed by a lone, likely agitated alien, and who knew how well Karkat had made himself understood.

John pulled his way out of the hug. "Sorry, I've got to - I mean, Noir's -"

"Yes, of course. Go."

It was shameful how relieved he was to abandon his sister to their dad, no matter how much he wished he could fix this for her somehow. There was no punching someone in the face and fixing it.

He walked out into the corridor, found Karkat sitting a few steps away from the door, his back pressed to the wall, arms loosely draped over his pulled-up knees. His mind was still so full of confusion John didn't know from which end to start unraveling it. He leaned against the wall and let himself slide down until they were sitting side by side, his knee bumping Karkat's ankle.

_You left her alone _was the thought that echoed back most strongly, so utterly baffled.

_Dad'll calm her down. I don't know how/I can't/I suck at it, want to kill things for her and it's so not what she needs._ He sighed, closed his eyes. Guess he still had something else to take care of.

**JH: lost t-rex chick came back to roost, i repeat lost t-rex chick came back to roost.**  
**JH: sorry for the bother.**  
**JH: thanks.**

"Thank me for doing my job a third fucking time and I'll see if nanites will fucking regrow your tongue, little brat."

John had known he was there before he spoke; Karkat's sudden tension was hard to miss, though the faint echo of silent but heavy footsteps through his horns that had provoked it only became clear if John pushed. He opened his eyes, gave the man an ironic salute. "Sure thing."

Noir stood at the corner of the corridor for another few seconds in silence, body armor strapped on over a wrinkled vest, bracketed by two armed men, gun in hand. He wasn't aiming, though.

"Good call, calling it in. I _would _have killed you, I don't fucking care about your diplomatic immunity. Next time try to be less of a fuckup."

As they turned on their heels and collectively ghosted away, Karkat shuddered. _Oh damn they were tracking me almost all the way through didn't notice why didn't they intercept - _

_Didn't want to hurt Dad is my best bet, too close to take down safely. _John grimaced a little. Now wouldn't that have been a pretty clusterfuck. They wouldn't have kept Karkat contained in the building, they'd have brought him right back to "real" secure facilities, and then good luck getting him back. Nrgh. ..._I'm sorry, handled that like shit. (I thought maybe you left wow I really feel like an asshole now.)_

_... probably should have. (knew I'd probably fail should have tried anyway scared of failure is cowardly wrong death-deserving.) I - you kept thinking **I want him I want him** I wasn't sure don't get why but..._

_Thank you._ He bumped his shoulder against Karkat's. Karkat sighed, eyes closing, and bowed his head to massage the root of his horn, where the headset pressed against it.

_What's ... wrong with your sister? If I can ask?_

John let out a humorless little snort of a laugh. "Sure, ask away."

Karkat winced. _Fine no need to be an asshole, asshole._

_One of your buddies peeled her out of her mech and used her as bait is what happened, whole platoon got itself killed trying to get to her. She was the one supposed to escortprotect them only they saw rarepilot highertraining youngernicegirl, not expendable._

Karkat blinked at him, red eyes entirely, utterly baffled. His mind was the same way, a big great _what._

_I suppose the mindfucking telepath keeping her from fighting to save them didn't help! _he added with vicious glee. _All like look isn't that funny they keep coming and dying because of you. Yeah, hilarious, the best joke. I want to meet that guy and kill him I don't care if he's your bestest friend I really want to kill him he should have killed her clean killed them all clean but no! was having **fun**!_

"... Zhann, shh."

Karkat's palm hit him in the cheekbone, not very hard at all. His expression was weird, sad and maybe guilty, and maybe just tired.

_Sorry (whoa overstepping my bounds there) but seriously hush. Your sister is kind of busy (with that adultpersonwhothehell?) and I'm **not **calming your shouty tits if you freak out._

"Mngh."

They settled back against the wall, sighing in accidental unison. John let Karkat's weary, vaguely guilty relief smother the rest of his anger. The guy who'd hurt his sister was out of reach right now and anyway he'd had that talk with Rose before (several times) about how stealing her right to take revenge wouldn't somehow magically fix her, and he had to handle it how Jane wanted it handled and not otherwise, else he'd be a selfish little fuckhead who believed his feelings about her assault were more important than her own.

_Succinct and blunt as all motherfucks but yes I agree. Taking revenge for her you're saying she can't and won't ever again._ A thoughtful, muted pause._ So she's... damaged/combat-broken?_

"Yeah."

"Huhn." _(Can't believe no one put her out of her misery yet. Humans are so weird.)_

John lifted his head off the wall, turned it slowly. Stared.

_You might want to explain that one real fast._

Karkat stared back, eyebrows furrowed. _What? She's cracked/dangerous/in pain. Baffled here I mean okay her brother wouldn't want to admit it that makes sense and I guess she's strong means useful (table flying, so heavysolid in the horn sense, striking the floor deep shaking thud), but she's not the best pilot **by far**? (not like my lovewreckmine such gorgeousterrifying devastation to make it worth it) No one tried to go over your head?_

John kept staring, torn between the sudden desire to punch Karkat in the nose and the just as mystifying desire to ... he didn't know, pat his head and be _sorry_.

Karkat bristled. _What the fuck can that shit I don't want it from you!_

_Yes well you stop being such a sad sack of emo woes first! You just-_

"John? Khrkat?"

Rose stood in the middle of the corridor, white-blond hair mussed and skin shiny with sweat, breathing too fast. She'd probably just landed, and then she'd run-

"John, Mr. Noir forwarded us-"

John dragged himself back up on his feet, embarrassed and guilty. "No, it's fine, Dad's handling it. How'd it go up there?"

Rose glanced at Karkat, but when she looked back at John she took a second to just look at him, and then the set of her shoulders loosened a little bit. "Ah... Fine now, assault repelled. No loss of life on our side. We have nineteen casualties amongst the Marines but I'm told they'll live."

"Oh, that's... Good. Uhr. Yeah. Good. Uh. Jane had a combat flashback and tried to brain Karkat with the dinner table."

"... Oh."

"Yeah."

Karkat snorted under his breath behind them, still sitting on the floor and making no move to get up.

John grimaced at him over his shoulder, and then kept grimacing as he had to admit the rest of it to Rose. "I think Dad must have been asleep, I couldn't contact him, so, err, Karkat went to fetch him. Alone. Without warning me first. Hence Noir. Kind of embarrassing."

"I see."

"Yeeep."

"Mnh."

_Oh my cock-chafed dribbling asshole will you just fucking talk to her already come on it's not hard you open your big flat-toothed maw and you flap your pink tongue and **make meaningful sounds**. (no wait I'm sorry that's just about impossible for the likes of you.)_

"Oh my god will you shut up."

_No. Talk to her talk to her talk to her fucking talk to her or I'm sitting on you and handing her my headset next **talk. To. Her**._

"John?"

He breathed in, breathed out. _Yeah shut up Karkat I was going to anyway._

"You were right and I'm an assbutt and I'm sorry."

Rose stared at him, blinking, and then lifted a hand to her mouth, though that didn't block out the sudden giggle. "Oh, _John_."

"No, really, you were right about the telepathy and all. I mean. The... caring too much thing. Karkat told me you were."

"Yes," she replied drolly, "your strict self-limiting use of the headsets all this week pretty much confirmed that you agreed with my assessment."

As he winced, Rose took a step closer, rested a hand on his forearm. John sighed, leaned in for a hug.

_Huzza, forgiveness for all, and a huge helping of inappropriate touching on top, dear lords of the Abyss I thought cat-ear-horns/giggly/feral/friend was clingy think about my poor virgin eyes seriously John._

_Shut up or I'm hugging you next._

_That's blackmail you repulsive fiend._ A feeling like a fleeting smile. _Now stop broadcasting your happyforgivenglee it's disgusting. (no it's not ahh cute but uh Jane next door?!)_

John and Rose dehugged, shared an embarrassed chuckle.

"So Karkat confirmed, hm?" She gave the alien a speculative, secret little smile. Karkat sneaked her a quick awkward look and shrugged, staring at the floor.

_Just because I couldn't lie mind to mind, wasn't trying to be helpful or nice or anything. (ngh hurt-betrayed-alonehurting John ngh.)_

_Hehehe you're right you really can't lie worth crap mind to mind. _"Yeah, he felt sorry for my manpain or something. Or he wanted me to stop whining about how wronged I was. Probably that one."

Rose ruffled his hair. "There, there."

_Don't you guys have any social construct at least vaguely mimicking shame I'm still here!_

John tilted his head into Rose's hand, just to annoy him. _I can't believe what a prude you are dude she's just petting my head! I pet **your **head!_

_And if you ever do it with half that much **tenderness **I'll have your finger bones for a necklace._

Rose dropped her hand, smile mocking but in that affectionate Rose way. "If I may venture a theory... Since Karkat feels things more powerfully than you do, or at least takes them to heart more easily, you feel what happens to him more strongly than you would had it happened to yourself, is that the issue?"

John made a face. "Bluh. Yeah, I suppose. There's some things he just... gnh." He tried to tune out Karkat's quiet mortification and litany of unconvinced denial about what a stone-cold badass he truly was thankyouverymuch and the aliens were totes wrong wrong wrongity wrong. _Yeah I believe that, buddy. You're a marshmallow._

Karkat tried to think a vicious threat of ass-kicking and utter ruination at him, but couldn't even solidify it before it fuzzed out into some more mortification. He dropped his forehead on his knees and groaned. John snickered at him.

"So... You were otherwise occupied, and he chose to leave your custody... Was he aware...?"

"That he shouldn't and he was gonna get in trouble?"

Karkat winced under Rose's look, gave a tiny nod, shrugged, mind locked up.

She smiled at him. "Thank you, Karkat."

Rose held out her hand. John knew Karkat would have refused the help coming from him, but from her he didn't dare, strangely shy; he took her hand and allowed her to tug him up on his feet, though he took as much of his own weight as possible.

"Let's go back inside."

She tucked her other hand in the crook of John's elbow, and it was funny because Rose wasn't very touchy-feely usually but John got it, because man had he missed her, too. It was just wrong to be so at odds. They were co-team leaders, damn it, it'd been wrong of him to desert her like this.

They were friends too. They balanced each other. Rose needed unpredictability injected in her plans and her life both, and he needed to be reined in pretty much everywhere and okay why was Karkat feeling all flustery-alarmed now.

_Uhh Jane?_

_What about Jane?_

She wasn't there anymore, at any rate. The kitchen corner was empty; Dad had probably brought her back up to her bedroom. John went to wrestle the solid oak table back on its feet, Rose and Karkat picking up the things scattered around. Rose checked the laptop and put it back on the table, turned it back on.

"Good to know that when we paid for anti-shock technology we were not stiffed," she mused, and went through to save the last-used files properly. John chuckled. Karkat kept feeling awkward and confused in the background.

_Is it because you're kind of a temperamental douche that you need two people to keep you in line?_

John sent him a confused blink over his shoulder. "Uh. What."

Karkat rolled his mental eyes at him, with a feeling of "yeah, yeah, I'm totally not seeing that denial, mister smooth" all through the background. _I'm telling you now, I'm not joining your harem. I'm the monogamous type fuck you very much._

"Whaaat." John stopped in the middle of the room; Karkat deliberately walked into him, bumping him aside with his greater mass and lower center of gravity.

_Yes I know that word already you don't need to repeat it I promise now stop gaping like a hungry amphibian and also fuck you I'm not short-legged and fat you're the ladder beast here. Now who was that man anyway?!_

John stared after him as Karkat went hunting for an eraser under the coffee table. _Dad? But you've seen him around, you know him?_

_No! Who is he to you, that you let him handle your sister! I don't get it! It's just too fucking weird and wrong and what the heck were you thinking he's an adult why are aliens so fucking weird!_

John just kept blinking. And choking back laughter, but he could feel that one was a losing battle. "He's... my... father?"

Incomprehension. John visualized himself small and chubby and Dad carrying him around. "My _dad_, dude!"

Nope, still not getting through. "... Zhann stupid _what_. Whatisthis dad what!" _Give me an explanation that makes sense and I'll take it but this doesn't! What's the relationship between little you and big him?! You knew him as a child okay but?_

John froze there, a bunch of pencils in hand, mouth moving soundlessly for a couple of seconds. He turned pleading eyes onto the other human. "Rose. _Rose_."

She was better than him at keeping from laughing, but he could tell she was close, too. "Yes, John?"

"_Rose Karkat just asked me where babies come from._ I. I can't."

Rose cracked up. "Oh, that's terrible! Good luck."

"You _traitor_." He turned to Karkat, helplessly waving his hands around to describe things he couldn't even visualize himself. "He's my father? My genitor? I sort of actually not but socially it's the same as if I _come from his loins_?"

He made sure to visualize that one. Not too realistically, that was gross, a caricatured drawing style was fine, but the, ahem, interacting groins, the bulging stomach area, the big arrow pointing out of a lady crotch and toward a brand new baby, oh yes.

The sputtering _horror _he felt from Karkat...

Okay, fight lost. John plopped his ass on the chair Rose had just put right, almost toppling it right back down, burst into a torrent of giggles. Half of it from all that long-held tension, finally snapped, finally gone.

The other half was pure _what the hell Karkat hahaha_.

"He said... he said..."

There was no way to appropriately convey the depth of that baffled shock, but he tried it anyway. Rose was waiting, biting on her made-up lip in a vain attempt to keep from smiling.

"-Oh my _god_, you're a _mammal._"

When Dad walked down the stairs five minutes later, he found John and Rose both still gasping for air, and Karkat glowering down at them with his hands on his hips.


End file.
